


Thread Loose

by Trunchbull



Category: Kill la Kill
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-28
Updated: 2014-07-09
Packaged: 2018-01-10 09:10:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 40,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1157832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trunchbull/pseuds/Trunchbull
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Senketsu has been acting very odd ever since that first Banshi thread was pulled from him. Ensue aggression, tightening, and sexy times with Ryuko.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Rating:** NC-17
> 
>  **Warnings:** Mild exhibitionism, light sex?
> 
>  **Note:** It’s not what I fully wanted, because it doesn’t have the true ‘aggression’ portion that I originally wanted in my prompt but…I’m not really sure how to write that, I pretty much screwed up this thing because it was supposed to be about Senketsu being all aggressive and plot and stuff, but it turned out to be smut. Excuse me while I cover my face in shame. Because of that, I kind of left a door open so that if I were interested in completing it, I could. That way I can look at the more aggressive side now that the whole intimate bonding has come and passed. Probably in another chapter; so I’m not marking this as complete for now.

“Senketsu, you’re squeezing me too tight.”

At the sound of Ryuko’s voice, I made a light grunt of acknowledgement and loosened my grip on Ryuko once again.

“This is the third time it’s happened today.”

I didn’t respond to her, a light embarrassment settling in the atmosphere between us, though the unspoken apology hung there.

“You’ve been acting like this a lot, recently. Maybe we should take you to Mikisugi to find out if he knows how to fix that.”

I bristled at the name of that man, though I did not let it show in my words. “I am fine, Ryuko. We do not need to see him.”

Ryuko was partially right. I did feel a bit different in the past few weeks, though was unable to pinpoint what exactly changed in the daily routine we’d participated in.

I settled back into position, staring blankly at the outside world as we boarded the tram train to Honnoji Academy. Mako squatted next to Ryuko, nibbling on what looked to be a burrito of a mixture of sorts, despite there being a rule against eating on the train. We weren’t going to be late, so why she chose to defy the rules was beyond my comprehension.

As the train scaled up the hill, it was abnormally silent, minus the general mumbling of the people surrounding us and the groan of the car as it moved on its predetermined path. My one good eye glanced up at my owner, who stared vacantly forward. I was used to feeling the vibrations in her chest as she spoke to Mako in the mornings, about things that would never be useful to me: Nazi propaganda, what Mrs. Mankanshoku shoved in the food last night that was upsetting her stomach, and other trivial topics. They didn’t discuss the important things in such a crowded location, such as talk about Satsuki or other potential enemies. It’d be too easy for one of Satsuki’s lackeys to pick up on it and report it to her like the slobbering lap dogs that they were.

I didn’t say anything to Ryuko though, and assumed a stoic gaze once more.

The silence helped to calm my threads, which were very itchy as of late. Despite being cleaned and ironed generously, the feeling that something had caught between them remains ever prominent. I haven’t mentioned much more than that to Ryuko, who hasn’t been able to figure out what may be wrong, either, but she stated she’d try her best to make me feel comfortable once we reached home.

This itch made me irritable, snappy, and overall less than pleasant. When it got too much for me to handle, I’d constrict myself, and it relieved some of the irritation. Ryuko doesn’t particularly mind, I think, as she doesn’t mention it unless I squeeze too tight.

I felt her heart beat begin to quicken, and upon inspection we had arrived near Honnoji Academy. Just the sight of it filled Ryuko with a passion that associated itself with confidence and vigour. If one challenged her to a match, her blood was fired up and ready to go.

Something was shoved over my eye before we were able to step off of the train. I could hear Mako rather bluntly stating “Hold these things for a sec’!” What she was doing, I couldn’t tell, but the shuffling I could hear made me assume she was looking around for something. We were moving, though.

When I was able to see again, the train was already out of my sight, and the gaudy entrance to Honnoji Academy filled my vision. Mako was balancing a giant pile of books and papers on her arms and head, which were most likely for the tests that her classes had been bringing up. Because the past week had been uneventful, I prepared to go into semi-stasis until Ryuko addressed me once again. Ryuko turned to pick up something Mako had dropped, and that’s when something caught the corner of my eye.

A fair distance away, I could see some of the civilians walking around, and one of them was wearing something pink. I could make out just the form, and the lady wearing pink sported blond pigtails. My reaction wasn’t intentional, but I instantly tensed up at the sight of her. I could hear Ryuko hiss, but I paid that no mind as I stared at the lady. Moments passed by before I remembered who they reminded me of. Nui Harime.

Ryuko was hitting at my lower half to grab my attention, and almost reluctantly, I uncoiled myself. “Senketsu, what was that about? It felt like you were cutting off my circulation!”

Brushing off her frustration, I closed my eye and let a breeze flow through my threads. “Nui.”

“Huh?” Ryuko wasn’t sure what I said.

“Nui Harime. There’s something about her that sits wrong with me…”

Ryuko doesn’t remember much after having gone Berserk, and neither did I. I can’t recall what happened immediately before becoming Berserk, during Berserk mode, nor a few hours afterwards. I do not believe that going Berserk itself had an adverse effect on my state currently, but without anything else to go off of, I had to chalk up something to it, namely the itching…

“You already said that.”

“What?” I blinked.

“You already said that something’s wrong with Nui. We talked about it yesterday, going over what she could have done to you before our memories cut out.”

As honest as her word was, I couldn’t remember that. I couldn’t remember what events took place yesterday, and the days before that were looking pretty hazy at best, too. The itchiness stuck out the most in any select memory of this week, like a flare in the dark. It was clouding my ability to process a solid thought. My mind was inexplicably drawn to it, the voice I was hearing becoming a gentle hum.

It was a murmur against my fabric, buzzing comfortably where her chest was. I could feel her heart rate pick up minutely, though what was causing it wasn’t within my ability to find out right now. The sun never warmed me up quite like her… I could feel when she whispered, lungs expanding and contracting, much like I felt the urge to right now. The itching left nothing spared, and that momentary lapse of peace was always the calm before the storm with it. I always fell for it too, never tensing in preparation for the itch to come, because the prospect of a paradise of calmness was a welcome change from the irritation this was causing me.

It flared against the seams of my body, moreso than any other part of my body. A wave of heat throbbed throughout me, filling me with a need for something. What it was, I couldn’t pin a definition on it. I quivered minutely, focused on its intensity, even though it only made the itching worse.

Something was pinching my ties, and I whimpered. It was tugging and pulling at them without remorse, no doubt trying to grab my attention. At the sound of my whimper, though, it stopped, and I found myself silently wishing the rough ministration to return.

I felt like I was being pulled on much more roughly now from the back, and I immediately snapped back into reality, though the pleasant haze sat at the back of my mind as a constant reminder of my current state.

Mako was pulling at my clothing, and Ryuko was struggling to stop her. “No!”

“But maybe if you take him off then he’ll wake up again and want to be put back on so he can drink your blood again!”

A dramatic sigh. “It doesn’t work like that. He’s awake, I think. He’s just not responding. Now stop!” Somehow the little strip incident turned into a hugging fest, Mako encompassing both of us with her short arms. Tightly. The warmth and constriction almost sent me back into that lapse again. Was I really that sensitive to such innocuous gestures?

“Wake up Senketsu, we’re at school!” Mako tugged at my ties from around behind Ryuko. The pulling wasn’t as appreciated as before, uncomfortable and uneven.

“I’m awake, idiot! Stop, stop, Ryuko, tell her to stop!” was my outburst, and Ryuko snapped her head towards me before backing into Mako, causing her to stumble.

“See? He’s awake and talking again, so you can stop now!”

A pause, and then arms wrapped around us again.

“You can never have enough of Mako!”

.o

The minutes ticked by like hours. Of course, time didn’t really have much of an effect on me when I was in semi-stasis. I was half conscious, vision blurred to cut out any distractions resulting from movement, senses dulled to where I wouldn’t have to be in a position to react at a moment’s notice, such as when in battle. Everything was a desensitised blur, though the heartbeat of my owner was a clear, solid presence amongst the glaze.  It reminded me that Ryuko’s still here; still safe with me to protect her. I wasn’t sure how I could live by myself, silence engulfing me with its sterile presence, or even with the lack of blood to keep me warm.

I kept in time with the heartbeats, monitoring it as though something might come up that required my attention. The quiet urge to be needed by someone…

The stroking returned. The touch lightly trailed against my ties, gripping softly as though testing their firmness. I wondered if it could sense my trembling underneath its inspection, anticipating each new pet when the fingers left the bottom of my tie to start back at the top again. They pinched and twisted, but never with the intent to harm. I wondered if it realised that its touches were affecting me in a way I haven’t felt in a long time, since I was first put on by Ryuko and the sensations that came with it… We’d never been involved intimately, any more so than one can get with a Kamui during synchronisation. Her touches had never been anything more than benign, never trying to solicit a response that I may be embarrassed about or otherwise. Ryuko was probably stroking me now, absentmindedly, during her class. It couldn’t have been intentional as a way to make me feel unsettled.

The petting continued until it eventually reached the knot of my tie. It fumbled with it, as though trying to loosen it. I twitched, perturbed, unable to see what was going on. When the touches left the knot and moved to the hem of my lower half, I relaxed, once again content.

Among the lazy thoughts floating across my mind was one that had me focused: I’m not supposed to be this receptive to touches during a semi-stasis nap. Normally meaningless touches like this wouldn’t perk me up so much; they’d usually keep me sedated under the effects of sleep. I was slowly returning to full consciousness as the awareness that the itch was going to arrive, made itself known. It’d never appeared while I was in semi-stasis, but its drugging effect was making it hard for me to rise back to the waking world.

I could feel myself begin to constrict, a grating sensation sweeping across my fabric, and I could tell that it was making Ryuko uncomfortable from the way her heart rate quickened. My voice became a warbled groan as it hit me full blast, and I was unable to hold back the next constriction.

Ryuko’s heart rate hammered inside her chest, but that only excited me more. I could feel her curl into herself, every inch of her skin clinging to me. Available without any consequence that wasn’t worth this. I could feel her talking, but her words had no meaning to me at this moment. Afterwards, her grip tightened around something beneath us, and that grip caught the hem of my lower half. It crushed the clothing beneath it, sending mild shocks of pain that intermixed with the tingling pleasure I was getting from squeezing her.

Her thighs seemed to quiver the most, crossing to try to alleviate the pressure I was putting onto her groin. Naturally the whole body would placate me when I squeezed, but the area between her legs was hotter and more moist than any other region, and that satisfied me more. I knew I was twitching, I could feel it, but was powerless to stop it.

Maybe the vibrations were having an effect on her? Her core temperature was rising steadily, and sweat was beginning to form on her hot skin. Her breaths were more uneven and heavy. If it was an indication of anything, her exhibitionist tendencies were certainly showing here.

I could feel juices flowing from her groin, which settled into my clothing. I honestly didn’t mind, because it was part of _her_ body, and what comes from her, I have grown to love. She spoke again, but it was a whisper, because no vibrations came from her chest. She must have been whispering to me, because she didn’t lean over to talk to anyone else. She was touching the inside of her thigh, slowly, as to not draw attention. Her fingers shifted nervously upward, her right leg lifting up to shield them from any lingering eyes. And then they touched her lips, only a thin piece of me acting as the barrier in between.

A finger pressed shyly against me and thus against the slit, the wet cloth a reminder of her tainted arousal from my actions. This intimate in a public area… while I did not mind in a public area, as I had no concept of true shame in regards to sexual endeavours, I was not sure how far Ryuko’s exhibitionist side was willing to go. Apparently from her prodding, pretty far.

It rubbed up and down, lightly at first, but gaining confidence as the seconds drew on. I could feel my own fibers between her wet lips, and we both shared the same desire as her body heat cranked itself up even more. While this could not venture further without her moving between I and her own flesh, she tried her best to make up for it. It was a discreet but rapid force that made me shutter. They pulled, probed, taunted, and stretched at the clothing there, all while satisfying herself at the same time. I couldn’t help but groan again, more clear this time. I still hadn’t woken from my semi-stasis, the itch keeping me locked in, but I don’t think I would have been able to restrain myself completely if I were fully awake.

We began to rock, grinding against both her fingers and the chair beneath us. It felt so good, the friction, and I didn’t want it to ever stop. It pulled against my stitching, bringing irritation that melted into static pleasure, causing me to hiss and squeeze.

I felt her freeze though, and right away, a sensation of disappointment, irritation, and neediness washed over me. The tornado siren of a bell shrieked, meaning her class session was over. I panicked slightly, worried about what would happen to Ryuko if she were discovered masturbating like a depraved animal in the middle of her classroom?

That worry was crushed as soon as I felt her moving, and that gave me some clarity back. The itching still the forefront of my attention, my squeezing made it difficult for her to maneuver out of the room and to wherever she headed. My grip grinded against her swollen lips with each step she took, making it an uncomfortable experience for her, though I didn’t mean to _do_ that.

We dropped somewhere, and the cold that connected with my body instantly snapped me back into a full awake state.

But I didn’t have time to process where we were because she already had two fingers inside of her. I tensed up, shaking as much as her as she caressed her walls, slick from the fluids produced from this arousal. Her blood was hot, much like her frame, and it renewed my vigour. With wild abandon she twisted them, scissoring them, scratching without care. I could feel some of her fluids drip onto my fabric, and it heightened my senses even more.

I managed to grunt out her name, vibrating sporadically. I could smell her hormones, her sticky need to release. The fact that she didn’t mind getting off a sentient article of clothing was so appealing, as it was so _her_. I could hear her chanting my name like a mantra, semi-incoherent and breathy. Her muscles were tensing up, and I knew she was nearing the end of her little session here. Her movements became arrhythmic, one hand jerking up to swoop the hair out of her face before pinching at a nipple, tweaking it, and in turn, twisting the patch that used to contain my other eye. That area was incredibly sensitive, and I lashed out, constricting as hard as my frame could allow. It was without a doubt, the most sensitive area, and it left me unable to do anything but squeeze until the itch faded away.

I wasn’t left alone, though. During my tightening, she herself had tightened up, a still being for less than a second before she was writhing on whatever she was supported against, hips jerking up against her hand. A high cry tore itself from her throat, one that I’d never heard before from her, but one that was erotic nonetheless. I stored it in my memory; I would never forget that noise.

Slick lubricant drenched both her fingers and my lower half, warm when it first fell and then becoming cold moments later. She trembled for a few minutes, and then stilled. We basked in the afterglow, or what afterglow there could be in such a setting.

When I came to my senses, I found that we were in the demolished bathroom that Tsumugu Kinagase had tried to strip Ryuko in. Even though months had gone by, its condition remained stale, and had not been touched in an attempt to repair. Though curious as to why Satuski would not issue an order to repair it by now, I decided not to linger on that thought. Right now, the idle form of Ryuko was more important. Her heart rate was dwindling back to normal rates, though her breaths remained heavy.

Her hair cascaded in dark waves around her face, stuck to it in clumps. Her cheeks were flush red, and I saw her tongue dart out to wet shaky lips. Her eyelids fluttered as though she were trying to fight sleep.

Something flamed inside of me, a possessiveness that I’d not normally found when I looked at Ryuko in the past. I was satisfied that she had bent to her own urges, and that I helped her to achieve that.

A growl rumbled from me. She looked perfect.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Rating:** T
> 
>  **Warnings:** Mentions of sex.
> 
>  **Note:** I’ve got a pretty general idea of where I could take this, but it’s pretty linear as far as plot goes. Hope you don’t mind. I’d also like to point out that the whole Senketsu slowly going insane has been going on for several weeks in here, so his sudden clinginess here is to be expected. I guess one could say this is the peaking point for his itchiness.

Thankfully the little incident happened near the end of the day, so we did not have to sit in absolute silence throughout a class. I remained sober for the rest of the time there, the itch not a threat lurking on the horizon of sanity.

Ryuko had no change of undergarments, as they were attached to me, so she was forced to wipe off the sticky mess accumulated in my lining and down her thighs with toilet paper and water from the one undamaged sink nearest to the exit. Because the itching had been satiated, her scrubbing did not spark up more needs. I hummed quietly, giving no clue as to what just transpired.

“That was completely reckless of you,” Ryuko began to lecture. “We were in the middle of a class, and distracting me was not part of the day’s agenda. I don’t even know why you weren’t responding to me, either.”

I wasn’t really in the mood to listen to her babbling, so I grunted and diverted my eye away from her glare. Doing so only evoked a frustrated response. “Don’t just ignore me! I have every right to take you to Mikisugi right now and have him take you apart!”

What was she so flustered about? It’s not like she demanded that I stop doing what I was doing, and she obviously enjoyed the results of our coupling. It was not my fault that she only encouraged the itching to be satisfied even more with her provocative attitude. But now was not the time to play the blame game. “You’re overreacting from confusion. There’s no need to be yelling. You didn’t seem to be intent on stopping me.”

My flat tone didn’t settle well with her. I could feel her boiling, not from pleasure, but from aggravation. “I didn’t ask to be molested, Senketsu!”

“Molested.” It wasn’t a question.

If she really thought it was sexual assault, she wouldn’t have reacted so emotionally to this, I assumed.

Before she could grit out a response, our interaction was stopped short by Mako’s arrival, who now supported less weight on her shoulders than this morning. She seemed to arrive at the most inopportune times.

“Mako, how did your test go?”

The petite girl beamed. “I’m pretty sure I got a B this time. All that studying will have to have helped my brain.”

“That’s good. At least you don’t have to carry all those books anymore.”

“They’re great for working out your muscles!”

I stared at the surrounding scenery, bored. Mako had taken away a chance for a heated argument that I was sure I could win. I would lead Ryuko into a fit of childish rage, throw an insult, receive one back, and then lure her in with words that would make sure there was no room for snappy comebacks. She would huff and pout but ultimately give up. I would have her right where I wanted her: submissive under the game of discussion and argument.

My thoughts lingered back to Nui, whom we’d been talking about before, apparently. That devil of a woman had literally made me lose control. It frustrated me to know that I was so easily controlled by another person, who forced me to react in a certain way to their liking. I can’t remember what she did to make me go Berserk, but whatever it was, it would not happen again.

“We should probably just go straight home today, Mako. Senketsu’s getting pretty clingy under this hot weather.” The mention of my name drew me out of my thoughts, for a brief moment. Ryuko tugged at my being as if to let in cool air by teasing it.

So we headed home.

.o

I was bothered by the idea of her taking me off.

I didn’t want to leave her skin. I didn’t want to go to sleep. However, instead of tightening stubbornly onto her, I decided to persuade.

“Ryuko,” I murmured quietly, “May I sleep with you tonight?”

At first Ryuko did not respond, a look of confusion to her face, before she became rigid. Her yellow bunny pajamas remained in her clutches.

“Senketsu, I’m not sure if that’s such a good idea…” she sounded apprehensive. I assumed it could have been one of two things: that she was unsure of whether or not me sleeping with her would be too intimate for her to feel comfortable with, or that the sexual nature of our actions today would return in my actions while she slept. I went for the one that would most likely reassure her more, even if it wasn’t the right reason.

“It will not change anything between us. Exploring different options in our everyday activities can…enrich our moods.” I chose my words carefully, avoiding anything that may trigger an emotional response relating to her masturbation. “And even to strengthen the bonds between us.”

“But you still haven’t been washed yet.”

I tensed. I’d forgotten, despite how fresh the memory should have been in my mind, about the fluids that had dried on my lower half. It had chipped from the hours of wear and Ryuko’s movements moving it away, but the majority that had not been scrubbed away still remained. This was where I lost the battle. However, the opportunity to remain by her side still presented itself.

“Well, may I at least stay by your side through the night?”

She narrowed her eyes, slightly suspicious. “What is this about?”

The question wasn’t exactly clear, so I asked her to explain.

“You’ve never wanted to sleep with me. Why this all of a sudden?”

It’s not like I’ve _never_ wanted to. I’ve just never expressed my desire to.

“I do not have a specific set reason for wanting to.”

She seemed to be expecting more from me, but I didn’t have anything else to say. An awkward silence slid in. Neither of us wanted to say something that would hurt the other’s feeling’s or make it even more painfully awkward by sounding desperate. However, I wasn’t about to let her make the choice of who was going to speak first.

“Ryuko…” I began, my voice sounding somber in contrast to its unwavering confidence moments ago.

“Fine.” She finished for me.

She stripped me off, eyes lingering at the mess she left on me when she went to remove my lower half. She said nothing about it, though, and I shifted back into my more anthropomorphic configuration, ties unknotting and returning to their erect state above my eyes. She reached out to stroke them thoughtfully, and the gesture seemed reassuring to me.

She didn’t mind my staring at her nude anymore; that trivial embarrassment disappeared shortly after the Gamagori event where I acquired my Senjin form. She wasn’t as bothered about the prospect of nudity after seeing what _Gamagori’s_ form did. She actually seemed slacker about many things after that, as it was the first time I’d gained a new form under her guidance. She appreciated the boost in friendship.

I rested against her mat as she tugged off her bra and moved it into her bag (so the perverts of the household wouldn’t try to steal the few she did have). She slid on new underwear that fit snuggly over her frame. Why she did so while taking off her bra was unknown to me. The pajamas hid her fit frame deceptively with its baggy attributes. I stared, but seeing her form wasn’t enough to trigger an itch. Holding it, becoming one with it; that’s what got it riled up.

She sunk into her covers, briefly staring at me with an unreadable look on her face. I stared back, feeling almost competitive with my gaze. I wanted her to back down.

Thankfully she did, turning away from me and letting out a sigh. I stared at her back, unsure of what to do now that I was actually next to her. My right arm, the one closest to her, lifted and weakly brushed against her hair. She turned her head slightly towards me, but not enough for me to make any sort of eye contact with her. I kept doing it since she didn’t object to it, and was content to keep doing so through the night until she fell asleep.

.o

I woke up to water soaking into my threads. My eye snapped open as I was startled out of stasis, but calmed when I was greeted with the face of my companion. She looked a bit worn out.

“Sorry Senketsu, I had to wash you early before we head out for the day. I didn’t want Mrs. Mankanshoku to see… you know.”

I nodded, noting the lack of a burning sensation I usually associated with being washed. Ryuko must have been using a different soap than Mrs. Mankanshoku usually did. This one was bleeding into my folds, caressing them and smearing them, softening any dirt and making them loose to scrub away. I sighed contentedly, leaning into Ryuko’s hands as she cleaned me. She spent extra time on my lower half on the areas that were stained, and I shuddered at the memory of what transpired yesterday.

She hummed a tune I didn’t know, her strokes slightly in rhythm with it. I watched the motions as they rocked the water and grinded away at me passively. It felt nice to be under the gaze of her attention, focused at the task of cleansing me. She couldn’t go to Mrs. Mankanshoku for this job at this moment because of what my actions made her do. The notion that power made her serve me was a bit revitalising.

I perked up when she scrubbed my ties. I could feel the suds on her fingers running down my own skin on contact, the heat from her a contrast to the lukewarm waters I sat in. There was nothing truly personal or intimate about her touches. That didn’t stop me from imagining it, though.

When Ryuko was finished washing me, she wrapped me around in a towel to dry me faster. I felt discomfort when she wrung me too tightly in some areas—she’d never _twist_ me, but the actions were sort of like that—but overall it was a quick and labourless process. I started to wrinkle from it, feeling a bit sullen from it, but she had that covered when she presented to me…

The iron.

I loved irons. The steam would smooth out all of my wrinkles, caressing my fibers like Ryuko does, only, dare I say it, better. It gives a massage from the heavens. There’s nothing that compares to this luxury. I looked forward to it any time I was washed.

Ryuko plugged it into the wall and cranked the setting up to five, and placed it on the table in the corner of the room before turning back to me. She patted me, stating she’d be right back. She disappeared through the door and returned back a minute later with a bottle of water and a small flat ironing board in tow. My eyes followed her movements as she poured filtered water into the iron’s water reservoir. My threads tingled in anticipation. I waited, still damp, for it to heat up, anxiously, excitedly.

Her fingers flexed around the handle of the iron. I tensed, eye widening. She picked me up by the collar and pulled me over the ironing board in front of her. I wiggled in her hands excitedly, almost embarrassingly so, but stopped once I remembered that she needed to smooth me out as much as possible beforehand. She briskly brushed out the majority of them that had been caused by my moving and her scrubbing. When she picked it up again, I was _ready_.

The iron glided over my skin. She started right at my collar, pressing down while moving it with precision. The heat melded into the entire area, leaving me to shakily groan in subdued pleasure.

“It feels so nice…” I breathed, swelling happily under the vertical strokes of the iron. Ryuko’s hand pressed firmly against the area below my eye, thumb massaging the area there for any kinks, and then moving there with the iron once her treatment to my collar was completed. Care was used when she ironed there. She avoided my eye, thankfully, after a rather tender accident months back.

She flipped my lapels over, and she must not have felt the amount of moisture still there when she did, because the iron burned when it passed over the left one. I hissed, wincing, and she lifted the iron away from me, pausing. “Did I hurt you?”

I was quiet for a moment before murmuring a no, and encouraging her to continue. She stared for a moment before continuing. I could still feel the burning sensation remaining from my left lapel as she moved toward my right one. The same pressure, the same exquisite pain. I pressed my lapel into it as much as I could, the effect of doing so leaving a tingly sensation there. I didn’t move, doing so would indicate discomfort or even the pleasure I was getting out of this. I hadn’t considered myself a masochist before, but now, the prospect of it didn’t look so bad when it mingled with pleasure.

“All done. I’ll let you know when you can move again.” She rubbed one of my ties. I was supposed to lie still for around five minutes to let myself set, so that I wouldn’t create more wrinkles in the long run.

Ryuko wandered off, most likely to get ready for the academy.  I waited patiently, eager to be put on for another day.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Rating:** T
> 
>  **Warnings:** Menstruation (Yes yes, I know, it’s disgusting. I deal with it every month. And do you know what would happen if I had a vampiric sailor suit? Shh. It’s a squick of mine, but someone has to write it.)

During the next few days, I noticed a drop in Ryuko’s progesterone levels. She was becoming more snug around the hips and lower abdomen region. These were usually the signs I got before she put me to sleep for a few days each month. The first time I noticed it I notified her regarding the issue, but she wasn’t able to understand my terminology, and I was unable to phrase it any differently. A few days later she came down with something she called ‘cramps’, and against my wishes, she didn’t wear me for _days_. When I asked her why I wasn’t allowed to be worn by her, she told me not to worry about it.

Why shouldn’t I worry about it when she leaves me in the dark without any clue as to her whereabouts, when she completely disregards me like that? And the torture she was putting me through right now with all of her wild hormone changes obscuring my senses and ability to concentrate! It wasn’t fair.

I didn’t have a say in it, though. And so I would deal with a few more nights of loneliness, kissing my wounded pride in the next week or so.

We went to the market today, since it was not a school day. The heads of the Mankanshoku family requested that Ryuko helped Mako with the shopping, to make sure she did not spend over what they had to spend, and that she be helped with carrying the load. Since Ryuko was pretty much indebt to them for them taking her in without question, she accepted. At least, that’s how I saw it. A burden. But then again, it’s better than ‘paying rent’, from what I’ve heard.

Mako insisted on holding Ryuko’s hand throughout the duration of the trip, making it significantly harder for Ryuko to balance plastic bags dangling from her arms and brown paper bags stacked in her arms at the same time. At one point, she ended up dropping something fragile in one of the paper bags, and we had to make another round to get more of it, extending our time spent there.

Among the other things bought, the only other thing that garnered my attention was when her friend whined about buying some type of candy. Ryuko repeated ‘no’ over and over, saying that they didn’t have the money to be spending on trivial things like that, but what felt like hours of Mako tugging and begging ‘please Ryuko, please?’, Ryuko bent and bought her a “Maccha Tea Flavoured Kit Kit”. A second one was bought too, and Ryuko promptly stated it was for herself and _not_ Mako, though Mako was more than willing to share her own half.  That was the only thing that Ryuko had purchased for herself. She’d never eaten this before. I wondered what affect it would have on the taste of her blood.

Ryuko didn’t eat it at that moment, though, merely shoving it into one of the bags currently littering the ground surrounding us. Mako promptly engulfed hers, sparing not one second to enjoy any flavour it might have had. We picked up and left soon afterward, though one or two shops were surveyed by Mako on the way back, adding even more to the load.

.o

Enjoy day, eat, wash up, sleep, wake up, eat, go to school. That was the ritual we went through every day. Right now going to school was the phase we were in.

One of the more ‘normal’ clubs, the Art Club, was challenging Ryuko. They actually thought they could defeat me—us, that is. They barely had two-tenths of the Life Fibers that I have making up my body, and with me being worn by an intelligent and strong-willed human, what possible chance did they have?

None.

…But a challenge did seem fun. It deviated from the standard cycle we found ourselves trapped in. It would allow me to tap into more blood if I deemed necessary, but it also allowed me to engage in the thrill of a fight. One that could potentially end it all with a single well-placed blow, or a fatal mistake on Ryuko’s end that would cause her reign of supremacy over these people in terms of fighting prowess, to come to an end. Of course, the latter would never happen. Ryuko was too strong for that to happen.

She was brandishing her large blade at them, and they eyed it, and I noticed that it wasn’t with fear that they basked in its presence, but with intrigue, as though this half scissor was an object of incomprehensible plausibility.

They extended the giant paint brushes resting heavily on their shoulders, the spiked bristles gleaming ominously in the fog. One of them in the front, presumably the President of the club, began monologuing about how their obviously superior would take down my human. She also stated her name, but I really didn’t care enough to remember it. It was all big talk, but they’d never be able to back it up with any decent amount of fighting.

I huffed. This would be too easy.

Something dripped onto me from between Ryuko’s legs. Curious, I sampled it. It was thicker than blood, containing a mixture of both tissue and _blood_.

We weren’t even transformed yet. Ryuko had not yet instigated a transformation. I quivered. It was only a drop. Barely even a drop. Maybe it was residue from a wound she’d received earlier? I couldn’t recall any of them so low on her body that I would be able to taste it where was currently leaking from.

I could detect an unusually high amount of plasmin in this blood, treating it as though it were not an open wound. If it weren’t an open wound, then what was causing it to _bleed_ …?

More of it trickled out.

I didn’t care. It was blood. _Blood_ , and I wanted more.

Ryuko attempted to take a step toward the Art Club Leader to go through the unceremonious process of trying to display dominance over them, but I remained rigid, and so did she. I was clamped up so tightly it would hurt to let go. I didn’t mean to clam up, but it was trickling out at such a painfully slow rate that I felt like I was choking. The smell of her sex hormones, hearing her lower abdomen grumble in a warning for the upcoming cramps that she complained of, feeling her sweat clinging to her body as she tried to struggle… It was making me delirious.

I couldn’t see so well anymore. I kept drinking in what was coming out, spoiling my appetite for the much cleaner blood that would have come in during the synchronisation, it tasting more potent than normal, making my vision very disoriented. I wasn’t actually sure if it was the blood that was causing my reaction or not. Idly I noticed that her struggling had caused a laceration to reopen on the front most portion of her ribs.

“Ryuko,” I tried to grind out. It was so hard to speak. I suddenly felt very clammy, shaky, and the cold sweat that washed over Ryuko washed over me. “Ryuko, I—“

I vomited.

It was hard to vomit when you were being worn, and it was painful because it couldn’t all come out at once due to Ryuko’s body occupying what would be my mouth. Blood burned against my mouth, spraying through all open seams possible, and thus coating Ryuko’s body effectively with her own fluids. I felt more than saw some of it dribble down her thighs, the rest painting the ground around us. It reached near the feet of the Art Club president too, if her step back was any indication.

It wouldn’t stop coming out. I hadn’t even ingested _that much blood_. But the blood that came from between Ryuko’s legs didn’t stop for my sickness. My fabric kept soaking it in, and I kept spewing it out with the extra blood accumulating from her open wound that had begun to leak profusely.

Gurgling was the only thing I could do at this point. It was backing up, suffocating me, unable to escape in adequate portions. I could feel the blood trying to escape through my seams, which were too tight around Ryuko to do so. The pressure was unbearable; I thought the patch that replaced my right eye would rip itself from my being to relieve it. I had to let go of Ryuko.

But I couldn’t. No, I could, it was just really hard to. Collecting myself as much as I could, I let go of my grip on Ryuko. We lurched forward, and that did nothing to help my sickness feel any better. Ryuko fell on the ground, and in doing so blood spilled almost lewdly out from under my top half and onto the ground, painting her arms, hands, and knees in her dark, tangy blood. I could feel her shiver in her position, goosebumps rising on her skin as she stared at her own life essence tainting her. I could also feel her curl into herself as the cramps finally exploded in her lower abdomen.

The amount of blood that I threw up started dwindling, but that was only because I couldn’t find myself able to suck up anymore, as though the function to do so was somehow disabled. I couldn’t milk more out of her, either. My grip on consciousness was no longer reliable. I felt bitter inside. I was still spitting up more when I lost touch with reality.

And promptly, as humans call it, fainted.

.o

When I came to, we were back in the Mankanshoku household. I assumed at least, because it smelled like it.

I felt abnormally dry and brittle, as though I would crack if I tried to move even a thread. For a moment, I panicked, irrational, but the fear was there nonetheless. The last thing I remembered was heaving up a never-ending sea of blood. Did I purge too much? Did I accidentally drain myself to the point where I no longer had any blood coursing through my own systems, and that being fragile was the conclusive consequence?

…No, that would be ridiculous. I would be in a stasis lock if that were true. I wouldn’t be able to think like I am now. At least I think that would be true.

Thankfully it wasn’t the case, and I was able to crack my eye open a hair, the light burning right into the nausea I was feeling and making it worse. I saw a figure moving about, though because I hadn’t focused yet, they remained blurry. It passed, and I closed my eye shut again as a voice told me to go back to sleep.

So I did.

I woke up two more times after that, though each time, I was drawn back into unconsciousness, unwilling to wake up so easily. Each time I woke up I found the comfort returning to my fibers, feeling them soften and relax from their previous worn state.

The fourth time I started to wake, I wasn’t able to go back into the lull of darkness. As much as I wanted to stay where there were no irritations, no distractions, no pains, something was touching me on my lapels, forcing me to concentrate on the touch and thus waking up.

I slowly opened my eye; I looked at Ryuko. Déjà vu.

My eyes subconsciously traced over her skin, looking for a marred surface, any imperfections that would signal her being injured. She’d sustained relatively few injuries, thankfully. I assumed that the Art Club did not offer much of a fight, even in light of me unable to participate in battle. I was pleased to see that my human could stand her ground on her own in a fight. After wandering over her face, my eye connected with hers, and we stared at each other. It wasn’t a hostile stare or a competitive one.

I tried to croak something out, but I felt doing so would only put me in a position of ridicule for my embarrassing spectacle. Her gaze was soft, almost sepulchral in its blue greyness. She broke eye contact only to rest her head on top of me.

“I’m sorry, Senketsu.”

What was she apologising about?

“I didn’t realise it would come so early.”

What _what_ would come so early?

Held onto me like a lifeline.

I didn’t dare question the silence that hung around.

“It wasn’t your fault that you reacted like that. I didn’t know.” She paused. “How much do you remember?”

I was pensive, but unsure. I spoke up quietly, “I do not remember much. There was something different about the blood I was drinking, as if it were tainted.” I became a bit sheepish. “I couldn’t stop drinking it though; it kept coming out… and something about it did not agree with my systems.”

It was her turn to become flustered. She slapped her hands onto her face, covering her eyes and the blush crawling across her cheeks. “Oh no, you didn’t actually…”

She cringed visibly when I didn’t give a response. Honestly, I was not sure what she was talking about. How was I to respond to it?

And then she sighed heavily, as though resigned to her fate. She ran her hands through her hair, pushing it out of her face only to have it fall back into place.

“You drank my…my uh, menstrual blood.”

There were different types of blood that I didn’t know about in _Ryuko_ ’ _s_ body?

“How is it any different from what I normally drink?” That was a bit of a stupid question. Obviously it was different; I could taste it, but I couldn’t identify exactly what was tainting it.

“It’s like when, you uh… When a girl—woman—doesn’t get pregnant, the uterus disposes of the dead—unused lining that it would have used if it’d been fertilised, and some of that is old blood, I think.” She was stumbling over her words, as though explaining sex to a child.

I was quiet, taking in this new information. Perhaps the reason I didn’t take too well to the blood was because of how old it was. It must not have been flowing through her system enough to be considered ‘drinkable’ blood.

“I should have told you earlier, but I couldn’t because,” a shaky breath sucked in, “it’s embarrassing.”

I figured that much.

“We are supposed to stick together. Even through small things like this.”

She nodded, a bit reassured by the lack of harshness in my words.

“Again, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kept something like that from you. You probably wouldn’t have had to go through that if I’d told you.”

She informed me of what would happen every month, and explained that it was the reason she didn’t wear me for a few days each month.

Oddly enough, her answers pleased me.

I asked her how long I’d been unconscious, and she told me it’d been three days since the incident. _Three whole days?_ I could have sworn I woke up more than once during that time.

Three days.

Three days without the itching.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Rating:** NC-17
> 
> **Warnings:** Smut, ~~prequel for ACTUAL PLOT sort of~~

The next night I managed to convince Ryuko to wear me while bathing with her. She made quite a fuss about it, worried about my wellbeing despite having gone through three days of sleep and self-repairs to myself. Perhaps it was guilt that helped carry along my request, though knowing Ryuko, it could have been a number of things.

Ryuko didn’t lather up like she normally did this time. Her day wasn’t as physically active as previous ones, so dust and blood didn’t add a layer to her skin this time. So instead, she decided to relax. This wasn’t one of the days where the Mankanshokus decided to take their own baths, so she had plenty of time to herself here.

One leg, and then the other; she lowered herself into the pool of water, carefully, as though moving too much would rip something from my body. I was annoyed by her treating me as though I were fragile; we’ve been through much worse, and throwing up was not a reason to act like I was just patched up.

“Ryuko, please don’t act as though I am still wounded. I am fine.”

I could tell she was uncomfortable now.

“There was just so much blood. And it wouldn’t stop even when I was taken back home; it was still leaking.” She hesitated, contemplating her next words even as she sunk further into the warm liquid. “I didn’t know if you would make it out or not because of how much blood you were losing.”

I was surprised that she mentioned me as the subject of worry regarding blood loss. She could have very well died there because of me. Yet she still showed me concern for _my_ life rather than hers.

We sank chest deep into the water. Ryuko tilted her head back, resting it on the rim of the tub. Her arms remained on the edge for a few moments before slipping gently into the water. She slid down a little, though not enough for the water to touch my eye. She didn’t wear her shoes, sensibly enough, but what water did touch me was instantly soaked in water. I didn’t mind though. My fabric clung to her skin where it remained out of the water, but touched by it all the same. What remained submerged underwater floated gently, rocking with the waves her movements created.

I didn’t move into semi-stasis; I wanted to enjoy every moment of this.

“Does the water bother you much?” Ryuko asked. What an odd question, considering I was the one who asked her to let me wash with her.

“Not at this temperature, no,” I replied. To be honest, I was pretty lenient with what temperatures I could handle. My Life Fibers could handle many degrees below and above Celsius. The point where it became uncomfortable started around 100 degrees either way. Being drenched in water would only do to make Ryuko uncomfortable more than I.

We sat there quietly, enjoying the warm waters. It’s not as hot as the waters I was used to when I was being washed, but then again, there’s a larger quantity of it here, and sometimes sacrifices had to be made.

Ryuko was touching her thigh. I didn’t detect it initially because the water disguised her movements. I felt her hand brush against the hem of my skirt, touching my teeth and slowly pinching where they were attached. The forwardness of her actions startled me, because only a week before, she had made a big deal out of our intimate interactions.

She prodded further upward, her fingers tracing against the dark threads that made up my being. It was harder to sense due to the water compressing all over us, but I could still feel it. My lower half was riding up against her hips, her arm pushing them upward as she reached the junction between her legs, teasing the garment there.

“Senketsu,” she breathed, laying her palm flat against the heat, rolling her fingers into the crease of her slit, and grinding against her touches. I briefly wondered if she’d have as easy of a time warming up herself to self-service without me.

The fact that she was so bold as to initiate the self-servicing _with me on_ instead of myself was attractive. I could taste a spike of arousal—could smell it—as she touched herself. It felt odd to be stroked while I was sopping wet, but I wasn’t about to complain.

Another hand ventured up to her chest, fondling her right breast and consequently my eye scar. I seized up, shuddering and letting out a small groan. She pinched at her nipple underneath that area.

“This wasn’t exactly what I’d had in mind,” I murmured, and felt her tense up, as though I meant that I _didn’t_ like what she was doing currently. I quickly added in, “But this is a better idea.”

At that she burned up, roughly jerking at my scarf with the hand that was occupying her chest. “You’re ruining it.”

I knew I wasn’t ruining it, though, because her heat flared uncontrollably after that. And a thought came to me: did my words turn her on? As much as I’d love to indulge myself to some of her blood right about now to appease these feelings of my own, her pleasure would be much more satisfactory.

“Ryuko,” I purred, letting her name roll off of my ‘tongue’, “I wonder if you actually enjoyed this the last time.”

Her heartbeat quickened, and suddenly the lukewarm water became cold around her hot body.

“Me squeezing against your skin, constricting it, taking the air away from you as you try to bring yourself to completion.”

She shook, a hand slapping against the edge of the bathtub to support herself. “S-senketsu.” It was a whisper, fingers quivering against the folds of her lips. Toying with her sensitive nub; I could feel it.

I pressed on, determined to make her lose control because of _me_. “You couldn’t stop yourself even if you wanted to. You depraved human.”

Her fingers stretched herself as she slipped them in. Her head rolled to the side, supported by her shoulder and her hair sticking to my collar. Her chest rose and fell heavily. I watched intensely, seeing her nibble her upper lip to quiet her whimpers. Her eyes looked hazy, distant, her cheeks rosy.

“Having to pleasure yourself with no one else to cater to your desires but a God Robe.” I know I was insulting myself here, but I didn’t think she would catch onto that since she wasn’t in a state of exact lucidity.

“Keep talking!”

So I _was_ indulging in one of her secret kinks. She liked people talking to her, whispering dirty things to her.

“Simply _filthy_.” I put emphasis on the last word with a tight squeeze, panties snapping against the fingers buried inside of her for a quick second, and groping her breasts which had become taut from a cold current brushing against her wet clothing. I heard her say in a hushed voice ‘oh god’, her brows furrowing with concentration as she worked harder against her touch. Her eyes were closed now, and I couldn’t wait to see them when she let go.

I taunted her with more words, feeling toxically satisfied with her primal responses. I could tell she was close.

“Ryuko, look at me.”

She didn’t respond, mouth open and closing as she jerked suddenly, her hips jumping forward and her back arching violently, a keening moan following soon afterwards. For a second, I thought I was about to miss the opportunity, but when she bit her lip again, that was my chance.

“ _Ryuko_ ,” I growled more insistently, “look at me.” I constricted more tightly around her chest area, making it harder for her to breath, and it seems doing that caused her undoing.

She opened her eyes slowly in the moment that her body was conquered by the unrelenting sensations. Her blue eyes stared heatedly at mine, looking only at _me_ , for me, oh _yes_. It was a look of wild abandon, her face contorting into unconstrained emotions, and my body twitched in reaction to it. How I wished to drink from her right now.

The noises she made were very similar to the first time I heard them. Very sensual but more muted, due to us being in a room that didn’t exactly have the most soundproof walls available. Even then, they were music to me.

She spasmed, muscles contracting as she rode out her orgasm, carrying me with her every second of the way. I could feel her solidly against me, enjoying the rippling of her skin. I was still pretty hungry when the movements settled, but I did not mention it. She looked at me with a lazy stare. I squeezed slightly in appreciation. And she smiled. One of those genuine smiles that at this moment made me feel guilty for some reason.

“That was…nice,” she said.

It felt awkward to hear her talk about it. I wanted to bask in the afterglow of her release. But instead of being rude, I sighed, which could be construed by her as either content or disappointed. I doubt she’d consider the latter.

We continued to soak in the waters until it turned cold enough to bother Ryuko. She stood up, and the cold air that encompassed us immediately after had her reaching quickly for towels. Instead of wrapping them around the entirety of her body, she squeezed my form into them, wringing out the waters as gently as she could. The scratchy textures of the cheap towels aggravated me, completely ruining any charge that I may have built up from that session.

She stripped me off after she decided she was done, and draped me over one of the towels to dry further. The other towel was used to dry the rest of herself off. I wasn’t completely dry by the time she was done, but she disregarded my complaints and told me I would dry fine when hanging up. I scoffed, a bit offended she didn’t even consider letting me sleep with her again, but wouldn’t push my luck any further considering I got to _bathe_ with her.

I hung solemnly in the closest, staring out with my one eye at Ryuko as she positioned herself on her futon. I longed to be by her side; it was lonely being the only clothing in the closet that belonged to _her_. I was surrounded by Mako’s clothing, too, but it wasn’t the type of company I wanted.

.o

Something different happened at dinner the next night. The Mankanshoku family and Ryuko were crowded around their normal feeding area, gorging themselves (Ryuko taking in _normal_ quantities at a time) on the conglomeration of foods that had no names to them. Surprisingly enough, despite the confusion that came with digging into the giant pile of food, no crumbs dropped to the ground. The Mankanshoku family loved their food.

Ryuko had eaten her fair share of food, and was sitting idly for a few minutes before pulling out the Maccha Tea-Flavoured Kit Kat she’d purchased days ago. When she peeled back the wrapper, the green chocolate was slightly melted but still edible. I asked her why it was green—I thought chocolate was brown—and she told me it dyed to match the theme of the Kit Kat.  I didn’t understand why humans would prefer different colours to the natural thing, but I didn’t think much of it.

She ate it, and went to bed. I guess that wasn’t very spectacular, but she normally didn’t eat something different in front of the family. They didn’t acknowledge her about the candy, though, so I guess it’s not something to worry over…

.o

The sound of something shattering woke from my stasis, as well as Ryuko. She startled, getting up and walking out of the room without me. I waited, and heard them talking. Apparently Mrs. Mankanshoku had dropped a few plates and glasses. Why she was carrying tableware they never used (they always seemed to use plastic as it was easier to dispose of and afford overall. They didn’t use _that_ tableware because their children would break it too easily), wasn’t made clear because I couldn’t hear everything they said.

When Ryuko came back, she folded her blankets away, since it was late enough to wake up for school. I observed her refraining from putting a lot of pressure on the last two fingers on her right hand. She noticed my stare a few minutes afterwards, and sent a smile my way. “Mrs. Mankanshoku dropped her plates. She was planning on moving them to a different area to make room for something else. I guess it won’t be necessary now that most of it is broken.”

Once she was finished cleaning up the area, she began to strip off her sleeping garments. I noticed a small red dot left where she moved to take off her pyjamas, and I tensed noticeably. Ryuko didn’t mention anything if she did notice my physical apprehension.

I felt her touch me, and tasted blood from her right hand. I jolted back, nearly wrenching myself from her grip. There was something absolutely repulsive about the taste of her blood there. I had no idea what it was, but I did not want to taste it again.

“What?” Ryuko asked, still holding me in her grip, and still letting the wound on her fingers bleed into me.

“What did you do?” I wheezed, wriggling to get away from her right hand. So disgusting, it was tangy, spoiled, it wouldn’t stop.

Ryuko apparently wasn’t getting the gist to release me, tugging me to keep me from squirming all over the place. “What are you talking about? Senketsu.”

I let out what can only be called a yelp when she pulled, letting more of it smear into my fibers. “Let GO of me, please!”

She immediately jerked back, hands wide in front of her as though she hurt me. “Senketsu, what…?”

I held back the urge to purge again. I took a few seconds to compose myself. I opened my eye—I didn’t even realised I’d closed it in the first place—and stared at her face.

“Your blood tastes very… different today. Unpleasant.”

She quirked an eyebrow. “Blood? What blood?”

I looked down at the hand currently propped against her waist. “You have a cut on your fingers.”

And then she looked down, at the left hand and then the right, and that’s when she caught the blood on her last two fingers. “Oh. I must have cut myself from the plates when I was helping clean up.” She analysed her hand, flipping it over to check for any other cuts. “What about my blood? I haven’t done anything different to it, really.”

I had to think back in the past few days of what may have caused the change. I wasn’t instantly aware of the food she’d consumed yesterday, but then the candy popped into my head very clearly.

“It had to have been the candy. Something in it made your blood so pungent.”

I couldn’t stand the taste of her blood. What would it be like without...?

“Senketsu, you’ve never reacted so badly when I’ve eaten new foods before.”

I was scared for all of the wrong reasons.

“We’re going to see Mikisugi.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Rating:** T
> 
>  **Warnings:** Plot starting to emerge ~~FOR REAL~~
> 
>  **Note:** If there’s one thing I hate writing, it’s Mikisugi.

It was still night time when we reached Mikisugi’s humble abode. Ryuko decided not to wait until morning because of the rapidly deteriorating state of my condition, at least, that’s what’s she explained to me. I was hanging loosely off of a hanger, which isn’t surprising, considering that I was going to be examined by the laid back guy himself. Ryuko was wearing a too-small school uniform of Mako’s, revealing her scantily clad stomach and legs. Hopefully she wouldn’t have to don that suit for too long.

It wasn’t long before Mikisugi answered and allowed us in, immediately shifting into his ‘Nudist Beach’ mode. Well, what was left to convert, since the only thing currently covering him modestly was a towel around his waist. Exotic incense burned heavily throughout the home, accenting the dimly lit scenery with a romantic appeal that I did not appreciate. Steam poured out from a small area that sloped down out of view. I assumed we disturbed him during his showering time, if the residue droplets clinging to his skin weren’t indication enough.

Ryuko perched herself warily on the red couch she normally found herself sitting on when in this habitat, her eyes never leaving the teacher’s slim form. I was her second pair of eyes if her gaze should stray.

“So,” he began, running his hand through his silver hair, “What’s the issue with your God Robe?”

“ _Senketsu_ has been acting really weird, like…” she stressed my name. It was much better than being referred to a general term such as ‘God Robe’. She pantomimed with her hands, as though they would convey the words she wasn’t able to find.

“Like a bloodthirsty beast?” I could see that damned smirk on his face. The sheer bluntness of his words irritated me greatly.

Ryuko stomped her foot and straightened up. “No!” she huffed, pursing her lips together. “You know that’s not what I mean.” She glared at him for a few seconds before her gaze softened a fraction. “He keeps acting… I don’t want to say aggressive, but assertive.”

Mikisugi raised an eyebrow, and I would too if I had any. “Assertive? Hasn’t anyone told you an assertive man is a leader who knows what he’s doing?” She flushed in response, obviously flustered at her choice of words.

“Uncontrollable!” It was blurted out, so forthright at that moment, it was cringeworthy.

“Uncontrollable?” I repeated to her, my voice rising into a question. She didn’t look down at me, as though stuck in position due to how embarrassing she’d become at that moment. She didn’t acknowledge me.

“It’s not like it’s completely insane, but he has been acting differently, and while it could just be like, a gradual change of his own doing, I wanted to know if there was anything that might have occurred that could have changed?”

Mikisugi seemed thoughtful for a moment, eyes distant before focusing back on Ryuko from where he stood, leaning against a stack of boxes piled in the corner of a room.

“You mean during the Berserker incident?”

She nodded. We did talk about what happened during the Berserker case, though only briefly, with Mikisugi. We skirted across the subject over the past few weeks, but now it was time to sit down and figure out what was going on.

“What specifically do you want to know?”

“You know what we want.” Her gaze steeled. “What happened to us before I went Berserk?” She didn’t even beat around the bush this time. I wondered why Mikisugi seemed so willing to avoid the topic before.

“Well, Nui provoked you and you lost control.” That stupidly sweet smile plastered itself on his face once more, and he tilted his head to the side innocently.

Ryuko wasn’t having any of that. Her hand immediately reached for the shrunken blade chained to her belt. “Don’t give me that crap. You saw exactly what happened and we both want to know _now_.”

He raised his hands in stereotypical defeat, shaking his head. “Alright, alright.

“I remember seeing you battling it out with Nui, she was talking to you. And then she’d pulled one of your God Robe’s Banshi threads. I saw your God Robe have what was equivalent to a seizure before pulling itself together.”

“Banshi?” Neither Ryuko nor I had heard about a ’Banshi’.

“A Banshi, or Nexus Thread, as some like to call it, is what holds a God Robe together; not just God Robes—any piece of clothing made with Life Fibers has a Banshi in it. Simply put, if you cut it, it destroys the whole piece, regardless of the amount of Life Fibers currently present in that article of clothing.

“It seems that Senketsu has more than one Banshi, considering that he’s still present with you. I’m not sure if having one removed would seriously affect his temperament to such an extreme that it’d hinder your ability to cooperate with one another in combat.”

Ryuko took all of this in, nodding to his sentences. “It’s not just combat though.” She didn’t mention the vomit incident. “I tried this new brand of Kit Kat I’d never tasted before, it was some type of tea flavour, and Senketsu said it’s probably what had to do with my blood tasting so bad the next morning.”

“I don’t recall a fight occurring at any point in the past few days.” He was implying that I only drank blood when Ryuko needed me. I scoffed.

“It’s a long story,” she brushed it off. “What do you make of that?”

Mikisugi rubbed his chin. “He may be more sensitive to new things being introduced into his system without the additional Banshi thread there to help him cope with it.”

“Mako ate some as well.”

I found it odd that she mentioned Mako. Apparently, Mikisugi did too.

“...It won’t really affect humans outside of their blood. And since Mankanshoku doesn’t have a God Robe that feeds off of her blood and causes reactions that forces you to wake up your teachers in the middle of the night...”

Ryuko blinked, and then scowled, not appreciating the facetiousness. “You weren’t sleeping; you were taking a shower!”

It felt like the towel wrapped around Mikisugi’s waist dropped a few inches lower.

“Oh, you noticed, eh?”

Within a blink of an eye he was suddenly invading Ryuko’s space, and I positively pulsed with distaste. His eye was roaming all over her body, but I noticed that it was strict and unwavering, looking for what may have been wrong with me outside of a missing Banshi thread, rather than for his perverse interests.

“ _I_ noticed that you’re wearing a rather revealing article of clothing yourself.” And that’s when the professionalism was lost and replaced by general seductiveness. Thankfully he couldn’t lay a finger on either of us unless he wanted a blade jammed inside him.

Ryuko leaned away from him, fingers tightening around that scissor in her belt.

“I didn’t come unprepared, if you’ve forgotten.”

“I like a challenge.”

Instead of waiting for a response, he handed to her a red suit, commenting on Ryuko’s risqué attire. This surprised me for once; Mikisugi always advocated the whole ‘Nudist’ thing, but giving Ryuko clothes that covered up _more_ skin surface was unexpected. The suit consisted of a red top with white lines streaking down the sides of the sleeves, and short black suspenders holding up track pants that also had the same white lines down their sides. Her midriff was exposed, similar to how my design does when Ryuko wears me.

“What’s this?” she asked, inspecting the clothing held in his hand.

“It’s to replace those clothes you’re wearing right now. You wear the same clothing every day, I’m sure you’ll be able to make due with wearing another set for a few days.”

Her cheeks turned red. It was considered unhygienic by a few that she wore the same thing every day. But then again, so did they—the same styled suit, and who knows, they could have been wearing the exact same clothing every day for all I knew. Ryuko took care of me, washed me when I was dirty, and that was better than anyone ever treated their clothes normally. She bit her lip and hastily took the clothes from his outstretched hand.

“Does this mean you’re going to fix him?”

“I don’t _need_ fixing.” I promptly stated. We had gone back and forth about it on the way here, but despite my protests, I knew I did, too, or at least Ryuko made me think to believe I did. I just didn’t want to be left with _him_. She didn’t reply again, because we’d been over this before.

“Indeed. It’ll take a few days though to replace the Banshi, but I’ll send him back to you when it’s completed.”

Ryuko nodded, standing up, getting ready to leave, but then she paused. “Wait, where would you possibly get another Banshi thread?”

“Don’t worry about it.” He waved her off, but it seemed almost ominous in the way he said it. She stared, scrutinising him. A short while later her gaze regarded me, and I her. We shared a moment to ourselves, and while I didn’t want to part with her, I knew she couldn’t stay here with him, with me.

“I’ll see you later, Senketsu.” She didn’t want to say it.

“Ryuko.” I replied smoothly.

I felt loneliness becoming my idle company as I watched her turn her back and leave me. Alone. I stared long after she’d left my sight.

Mikisugi appeared in my view, his eyes once more covered up by his multi-coloured glasses. A needle was in one hand, and a glowing red thread in another. I suddenly doubted his abilities to do a good job if he was wearing sunglasses at night and was about to repair a Kamui, which could be considered a delicate procedure. I wasn’t even sure if he was qualified to do this.

Of course, no one but Ryuko could hear my screams.

.o

He was _touching_ me. I don’t like being touched by him. This isn’t comfortable at all.

He was groping me with his filthy, sweaty hands. Up and down my body, around my collar, and even so far as to stick his hand inside of my sleeves, probing and poking. I glowered at him as much as I could with my one eye, though a concentrated look remained plastered on his face.

After what seemed like hours of him coping a feel, he backed off, moving out of my line of sight. I could hear a drawer opening and closing with a bit of shuffling involved. Something clattered, it sounded like metal. He returned with a needle in hand. A red thread hung statically from it, though I could tell it was throbbing with life involved in a Banshi thread.

Normally needles wouldn’t be able to puncture my threads. The only thing that could cut me effectively was the scissor blade. The needle he was holding had red tipped at the point, but I wasn’t sure what it was.

And then he poked me with it. Surprisingly, it went through. Even more surprisingly, it felt good. As though I were drinking blood once again, the pleasantness that came with it. I looked up questioningly at the man hovering over me.

“I laced it with some of Ryuko’s blood so at least it won’t be unpleasant.” He waggled the needle once his hand rose again. This man was full of surprises, it seemed, once Ryuko was out of the equation. I’d expected him to be rather eager to cause me trouble, but here he went trying to make this as painless as possible.

That didn’t explain how he’d gotten the blood on the needle in the first place. He seemed content not to talk about it, either.

I felt it puncture my body again, but the blood was nullifying the pain, the barest tingles of pleasure lingering once he’d gotten it through. The Banshi thread disappeared into my seams as soon as it’d been secured into place by the needle and solid stitching. I could feel it stabilising me to a point, and for a moment, I felt a wave of relief wash over me when it bonded with me.

Yet something felt off. It was not the same wholesome feeling that I’d had before my original Banshi thread was removed. I should be more pragmatic about this, though. After all, a thread is a thread whether it be Life Fiber or Nexus Thread. It’s still the same basic material, and it would help me return to normal.

I stared up at the ceiling, counting the number of defects in the material that made up his enclosure. He flipped me over, rendering me unable to see anything he did. I didn’t like this; I couldn’t see anything he was doing, and it made me nervous. I could feel the strokes of his movements in quick succession across the middle of my back, and then wrapping over to tighten the seams that brought my arms and body together. More of the Banshi thread sunk into me, filling me with the ability to control my emotions and my thoughts. It felt good in contrast to his touch.

I felt him drag his fingers lightly down my scarf, a touch too intimate, sending a cold shiver over me. He then stepped back, brushing off his hands as though I was dusty, and clipped off the remaining Banshi with a tiny blade. I suspected that it was built with the same components as Ryuko’s scissor blade, though it wasn’t big enough to pose as much of a threat in normal circumstances. The end of the thread sunk into my fabric, and with that, I jerked, feeling the transfer complete.

He then left me to lay there. I was irked by this, but I had no voice to speak my opinions with when no one could hear me. I couldn’t see his shadow moving anymore, so I began counting the defects again. However, I would be wasting the blood reserves that I’d stored from my feeding on Ryuko if I stayed awake all night, so I prepared for stasis, and five minutes later I was in the darkness.

I could have sworn I saw something pink move in the corner of my eye.

And felt something cold touch me.

* * *

Of course there’s a moment of clarity. But we all know the three words that fanfictions must abide to: It. Gets. Worse.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Rating:** T-ish sort of?
> 
> **Warnings:** attempted non-con actions, Senketsu being mean ):

One of the few reasons why I rarely went into stasis mode outside of sleeping when Ryuuko slept, was because I wasn’t able to willingly bring myself awake.

I was in stasis when Ryuuko had woken me up in that pile of clothing so many months ago. Who knows how long I’d been asleep before then. Only blood can reawaken me, but stasis is convenient for any time I was running low on blood reserves or would be in a sticky situation for an extended period of time. Stasis didn’t use up any blood, which is the positive part, but the cons normally outweigh the pros in most scenarios. If someone saw fit, I could remain in stasis forever, which is equivalent to death in a sense.

That fear always nagged me in the back of my mind before falling into stasis. The fear must be natural, because there’s always the chance you’ll never wake again. Then again, it could happen to anyone, animal or human alike. Something could kill you while you sleep, and you’d be trapped there forever. The only difference is that you can’t be revived.

I can’t really describe how it feels to wake up. All I know is that my clothing absorbs the blood and I’m there. That’s what was happening at this moment, and I was instantly brought ‘back to life’, into the arms of my Ryuuko.

She stared at me with this look on her face that made me feel like bursting with happiness. She was beaming.

We were outside of Mikisugi’s living quarters, though the entrance still remained open. Ryuuko’s back was turned toward it, though I could still see Mikisugi’s form leaning against the frame from around Ryuuko’s arm.

Her grip tightened on me as she pulled me to her chest, and I embraced it with no reservations.

She turned around to face Mikisugi. “Thanks again for patching him up.”

Mikisugi nodded in acknowledgement and retreated back into his home. We stood there alone for a few minutes, quiet, neither of us willing to break the silence. The wind that caressed my body felt heavenly; it always felt good to feel again after being in stasis for a length I would not be able to determine without someone else to tell me. I could have been asleep for days before Mikisugi gave me back.

As always, it was Ryuuko to finally break the silence as we headed east.

“Senketsu. Are you feeling better?”

I felt as though I was complete again. “Yes. How long did he keep me?”

“Around two days. He told me he had you ready after school.”

“Ah.”

She kept talking to me throughout the day, keeping me updated what had occurred over the course of the time I was away.

Life couldn’t have been any more normal.

.o

With all that skin presenting itself to me, I couldn’t help but nip once or twice.

The nips were pretty weak and generally wouldn’t come off as little more than an accidental pinch on Ryuuko’s end. The pressure wasn’t hard enough to break the skin, though I longed to do so.

My need for blood felt a lot stronger than before, though I chalked it up to the new Banshi thread settling into me. I still had to adjust to it, so maybe my body was coping with it by increasing the amount of blood that I needed. It should even out soon.

In the meantime, though, my nipping was the only indication of my ever insatiable hunger.

I would taste the saltiness of her skin, as well as sampling how well it could hold up against me before breaking. Ryuuko would complain about it, but because I was doing it at irregular intervals, it wasn’t enough to bother her. That is, until I was no longer satisfied with just nipping.

One time I accidentally bit harder than I meant to, when Ryuuko stumbled while walking. It wasn’t a large wound, very miniscule, but it still drew blood. Ryuuko didn’t notice because of her stumbling, but it instantly triggered a need for more.

I wasn’t able to get away with breaking her skin for long. Doing it while she was in a relatively relaxed state caused her to curse and pinch me and tell me to stop. Doing it while she was moving around caused her to slap the area as though there were an insect there. Doing it while she was heavily preoccupied with something didn’t garner any response. It still didn’t stop me from occasionally teasing her with nibbles when she was relaxed.

I didn’t go further than the miniscule bite, though. I wasn’t that desperate.

Because of my increasing demand for blood, Ryuuko has been more exhausted recently. She’s been getting more headaches as of late, and finding it more tedious to stand up. My own blood reserves have been pretty low themselves despite having filled up on my normal dose in the past 24 hours.

Today she was pretty exhausted, so much that she kept making simple mistakes that, with a clear focus, wouldn’t have occurred. Like putting blankets into Mako’s bags instead of folded neatly in the corner they were supposed to be in.

It was obvious she wouldn’t be able to focus clearly on school. So I did the only thing logical.

“Ryuuko, you are not in any condition to attend school today. You need rest.”

Ryuuko protested, as expected, but her words were slurred and at some points, incomprehensible. Her head lolled back, eyes closed and she looked like she would drop where she was right there from fatigue.

I kept her from moving any closer toward the door, keeping her rooted to the spot. I knew she wouldn’t be able to fight back with how low her blood was right now.

“Fine, fine, okay,” she muttered after a second attempt to move, and I released my grip on her, and she dumped herself onto the futon she hadn’t put away yet. Time passed and I heard her heart rate slowly decrease, and she was asleep.

The rhythmic beat of her heart was such a pleasing tempo, I squeezed lightly around her, though it wasn’t enough to disturb her rest. I even took to nibbling on a less-sensitive part of her skin to pass the time.

Unfortunately, Ryuuko’s sleep would be short-lived because Mako’s head popped into the room and I found her immediately by Ryuuko.

“Ryuuko, you’re going to be late for school!” She nearly shouted, grabbing onto and shaking Ryuuko’s arm.

Ryuuko wasn’t in the mood to respond so suddenly, so she just shrugged her arm out of Mako’s grip and curled it against her chest, turning away from Mako.

“I’m not feeling good, Mako,” she grumbled.

“Do you need Mako here to make you feel better?”

“No, I’ll be fine, just go…” her words seemed lifeless; she must have been really worn out by all the blood I’d taken. I didn’t realise I’d taken so much.

“Okay, but if you need anything, you can always talk to me, Ryuuko!” Mako left, but not before scooping Ryuuko out of her sleeping position and tightly hugging her. Ryuuko was pretty used to this type of handling from Mako, so she remained limp in her arms. Mako saw that she wasn’t reacting as she normally would—fiery and with energy—so she set her back down in her original sleeping position before bouncing out of the room. She stopped in the doorway and looked back at Ryuuko, a contemplative look on her face that looked out of place. Then she disappeared.

Ryuuko let out a heavy sigh, rubbing her eyes before shifting into a more comfortable position on her side. One hand was trapped under her body, and the other rested on her pillow. Her fingers curled near my working eye, and I settled in content.

Semi-stasis was the option I went to above all others, because using the full potential of my blood reserves right now wouldn’t be the best idea. I shifted into it, senses becoming muted. I was still aware of her heart beat, it becoming a dull thud in the front of my mind. It felt nice not having to think.

.o

I felt Ryuuko shift, her heartbeat quickening and disturbing my peaceful humming. I didn’t want to be pulled out of the rift.

There was a pregnant pause.

Something felt different. I suddenly didn’t feel so good. I couldn’t get out of semi-stasis.

What I could see darkened until I was surrounded in pitch blackness. Seconds later, I was blinded by a white light. I was hit by a startling amount of clarity.

I blistered, threads expanding so far one could easily slide a finger through them.

And then it stopped. My threads whipped back into place with an audible _snap ._ Ryuuko’s body jumped out of sleep in response, trying to jerk away from the stings that my sudden inflation brought, though it was futile considering she was wearing me.A lot of steam poured out of me, as though I’d just experienced a fiery explosion inside of me. I don’t know what caused it, though.

I didn’t dare look Ryuuko in the eye, though I could feel her inquisitive stare. I was embarrassed, having no way to explain to her what just went on. Of course, I was asked “What happened?” and could only come up with words describing my cluelessness.

Well, _that_ was one way to wake up from semi-stasis.

.o

I wasn’t in the best mood anymore. At most, I would find myself a bit excited over a fight with another subject of Honnouji Academy, but even now, the fights are becoming more lackluster to me, despite how much effort Ryuuko is putting out.

I’d become incredibly moody, even. I was no longer simply okay with Ryuuko putting me in the closet at night. I wasn’t okay with how Satsuki looked at her, or Mikisugi, or anyone, really. I didn’t like how uncomfortable it was being off of Ryuuko. I didn’t like it when everyone looked at us when she was talking to me—they should stay _out of her business_. I didn’t like that I couldn’t do anything about it.

I tried not to take out all of this irritation on Ryuuko, but sometimes, I couldn’t help myself. Some words would just slip and we would be arguing. She could have easily just taken me off and thrown me in a closet at home, but she didn’t. This only reassured my idea that she needed me and thus would never dispose of me in a bout of anger.

I wondered how far I’d pushed it, though. There’s only so much a person could take before they crack; even Ryuuko had her limits, if the Berserker incident was any indication.

The itch hasn’t come back, which is nice. However, it’s been replaced with a festering irritant that I had no experience with. It gnawed at my composure and control, making it harder to think and feel. If anything, this was worse than the itch, because there was no way to stop it. At least with the itch there was a cure.

Maybe I’m being irrational. There are cures for everything. There was probably a cure for what I’m experiencing; it just hasn’t been discovered yet.

Stasis was fleeting all night. I couldn’t find it in myself to go to sleep when there were so many unanswered questions running through my mind. Why was I so easily disturbed by the smallest of things? How was Ryuuko doing? Was I going to be sent to Mikisugi again for my recent behaviour? Did Ryuuko actually mind?

Ryuuko stirred. I watched her get up walk out of the room, not even sparing me a glance. After keeping me trapped up in this closet all day, she had the audacity to simply ignore me.

I mulled over this obsessively until she returned, and I released a bit of steam to show my aggravation. I couldn’t keep focus on her, though. She was moving toward me. I didn’t understand why I was so agitated at that moment, but when I saw her hand moving directly toward me, my eye snapped back into focus, staring pointedly at her.

Her hand paused in mid-air, nibbling her lips in thought with a strained look on her face, before retracting. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to wear you today.”

My eye widened, and I craned to see what she was holding behind her back. “What? But what if you need me? You can’t honestly expect to protect yourself against Nui or Satsuki without me!”

Of course, my words were mere placeholders to buy time, as Nui wasn’t a serious threat as long as Satsuki remained nearby, and Satsuki herself wouldn’t have the pride to attack Ryuuko when she was without me, ever since the Berserker incident. She maintained more dignity than that.

“I think I can manage,” was the rather unsatisfactory response. She didn’t turn away from me, but I could tell she was edging away from me. The thought of her leaving without my consent angered me irrationably.

“Ryuuko, do not move from your position.”

And she had the audacity to do just the opposite, taking even more steps backwards. I was not prepared for such blatant insubordination.

I tried again, more sternly. “Ryuuko, come back here, now.”

Her eyes flared and she turned to make her exit. This did not surprise me; her personality wouldn’t allow for such an easy submission. I nearly purred at the idea of catching my prey—my Ryuuko—and commanding her to wear me. She would wear me with honour, and if I saw fit, would tend to the urges I had.

I launched myself at her, nearly taking the hanger with me. She seemed to have been expecting it, and quickly reached for the door. However, my sleeves were longer than her arms, and one managed to slap around her skin. She jerked away, as if burned by my touch, but my grip was steadfast. In a manner akin to a restraining hug, I bound myself to her, attempting to force her to conform to my hold. But she wasn’t having any of that, and crossed her arms.

She shouted out “What is with you lately?” but I didn’t answer, too focused on the task at hand to grace her with a response.

Crossing her arms was one of the ways that kept me from transforming. If blood splattered on me, and she had her arms crossed tightly enough, it would cancel out the transformation. It seemed silly, but it prevents any fibers to extend and attend to a synchronisation. The same can be assumed if one is trying to put themselves on her. I couldn’t slide my sleeves onto her, and thus, would be rendered as nothing more than a rag until then.

I snarled, twisting, aggravated by this bold display of resistance. I bit into any flesh within reach, which included a portion of her chest. Which was a sensitive area.

She tried to pull back, hissing through gritted teeth as I assaulted her delicate flesh. I drew blood more than once, and that only fueled my actions further. I didn’t make it any easier for her when I accidentally caught onto a nipple from beneath her bra, which caused her to cry out and nearly drop me when she moved to rip me off from her. I spared no sympathy, tasting blood even from there. How delicious it was.

She stumbled over to a wall, with me still grappling for control, and shoved me against it, her shoulder the force that kept me immobile. Something caught my eye in all the commotion; it glinted from in between semi-closed fingers. A few steel nails reinforced to cut Kamui threads were there. I could tell from the odd shape and colour they had. They slightly resembled the needles that Mikisugi used.

Had she been expecting my moves? Was I really starting to become predictable like this? I did not like the idea of her gaining an upper edge over me.

My left arm was forced onto the wall, and, not bothering to check whether it was flat against the plane, Ryuuko began to shove a nail down upon me. She began twisting hastily at the nail, digging it into my skin and into the wall behind it. I thrashed and tossed what wasn’t bound of me at her, growling and spitting in a feral rage. I snapped at her, my free arm twisting to grab at anything close to it. The arm restraining me was still wide open for grabs, and my sleeve struck fast. It coiled around her arm, and then pulled toward me. The side of her body was flush against mine, and I shivered, more or less from the power I could still display, despite being half-nailed to a wall. Her warm skin felt _exquisite_. I had her in a favourable situation now.

If she moved her left hand to pull me off, my left arm would be free once more because she hadn’t gotten the nail all the way in. Then she would be forced to wear me, because she wouldn’t be able to cross her arms in time.

The struggling began less than a second later, her trying to pull away from me, but my grip was unwavering. If she pulled too far, she would lose the pressure placed on my nailed arm.

I loved being on the winning side.

“Ryuuko,” I purred, testing my hold experimentally, loosening it slightly when I saw her wince in pain from how tight it was becoming, “We can work this out. I am your Kamui.”

She seemed tense in my grip, and while she settled down, I couldn’t help but feel dismayed once the spur-of-the-moment energy died down. Ryuuko had stopped struggling, breathing heavily, but had become still. I could still see her glaring at me, lips peeled back to reveal her teeth in an aggressive gesture. She seemed to be weighing her options. But I could see it in her eyes. She was scared, confused, upset.

“Take me down, Ryuuko.”

My words only served to spark her actions up once more. Her gaze hardened. “This is exactly why I wasn’t going to wear you!”

“Come now, is that any way to talk to your _God_ Robe?” I drawled out ‘God’ as to put emphasis on who was superior here. It didn’t prompt the reaction I wanted.

It was silent, aside from her laboured breathing.

And then I heard her do something she’d never done before.

She sniffled.

I couldn’t see her face, but I felt her body twitch, and I heard her sniffle. I felt a twinge of pain form inside of me, though I didn’t know why. It was just a sound. But when she looked up at me, the pain was instantly justified.

Ryuuko was crying.

_Crying_.

Ryuuko Matoi never cried.

_My_ _Ryuuko never cried_.

Her red face was painted with wet streaks, eyebrows furrowed and lips pulled taut, in an expression that sent me mixed feelings, none of which I enjoyed. Her hair stuck fast to her cheeks, creating a disheveled look. I was guilty of upsetting my Ryuuko. Oh, this was not a good feeling.

She swallowed as though it would keep her from shedding any more tears, and then said:

“I was told that Kamuis couldn’t be friends with humans.”

Of course they could. I was a fine example of how well a relationship between a human and Kamui could turn out. Kamuis make their owners cry sometimes, right? It’s part of human nature… right?

“I thought they were wrong. I told them it too. A Kamui can be friends if you accepted them for what they are. They could be friends with humans because you don’t judge a friend by what they are, but by their actions.”

I didn’t like what she was getting at. I didn’t like it. I don’t like this I don’t--

“And a friend does not do _this_.”

All the tension that I’d accumulated in my right arm disappeared, and my hold on Ryuuko’s arm released itself completely. It _hurt_. I felt disgusted that I’d touched Ryuuko in a way that did nothing to benefit her being, to only cause pain. I went through the waves of regret, guilt, moral culpability, and greater than all, shame. I felt sinful for hurting her. I didn’t want to touch her anymore. So I let go.

Suddenly, she whirled around and _stabbed me with a nail_. In my right arm. There was enough force there to keep it there for however long she wanted it there.

It was my turn to gape at her. The action of her jabbing more nails into my form was what shattered my initial reaction and return to an appropriate anger.

“It’s for your own good, Senketsu.” Her mouth set in a straight line; the tears running down her cheeks were the only indication that she was not yet emotionally distanced. She turned and just _left_ me there.

“Ryuuko! Don’t just leave me here!” I yelled, anger and a bit of hurt tinging my voice. It echoed on deaf ears as she walked away from me.

Holding back was causing my seams to splinter and separate. I paused to watch her, quivering, not knowing what to anticipate. It was hard watching her turn her back from me and walking away. I struggled against the nails pinning me to the wall, all while heeding how much I could pull before it would start to tear my fabric. I doubt that Ryuuko would take me back to Mikisugi to patch me up in my current state.

I quieted down after a while, letting the events of what just transpired wash over me. I sagged in my restraints, forlorn. It would most likely be a long time before she’d come back to get me. I felt guiltier about going into stasis than to stay awake and mule over my misconduct, but without Ryuuko here to supply me with more blood today, I wouldn’t be able to go on very long without more. If I ran out of blood while awake, it would cause a needless death. Stasis would prevent that.

It was for the best. I needed to learn to control it before it learned to control me.

* * *

There will be a very justified reason as to why he’s acting batshit insane _now_. Trust me. And and I needed him nibbling on her. I NEEDED IT. Because I think it’s cute. But I didn’t want to make a whole other fic just about him givin’ her affectionate bites. So here. Me and my weirdass fetishes.

And to hell with it all, I’ll just use the double letter spelling that most people tend to prefer.

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Rating:** T  
>  **Warnings:** Mikisugi writing here ughhh  
>  Here, have a slow chapter. We all need to sllooooow downnn for what’s going to happen in the next chapter.

When I woke up, my surroundings were dark. I could hear the sharp sounds of a trash bag rustling around me, and from the slippery feel of it, I was in one. We were in motion, and whoever was carrying me wasn’t doing a very good job of making sure I didn’t bang around at the same time. Things bumped against me, irking me just a bit for having woken up so rudely.

I could smell the sour scent of heavy rain mingling in with a crowd of people. The smells were disorienting, making my ride in this bag more unpleasant and nauseating. I had a right mind to throw up the remains of Ryuuko’s blood in the bag just so this thief would suffer from the rancid odor that blood and clothing together would cause.

Something pricked at my side, and upon further inspection, a blade was rubbing up against me. I assumed it was owned by whoever was carrying me. Blood was trickling from a wound concealed from my view, and leaking onto me. Strangely enough, it tasted exactly like Ryuuko’s blood. But Ryuuko wouldn’t stick me in a bag like this.

I sat still for a little bit as the familiar sounds of a tram car squeaked. The ground beneath me jolted before steadying again. This was familiar. I could handle familiar. That means that we couldn’t be far from home, right?

I moved to see if I could find a way out, but it was then that I noticed that my mouth was stitched shut. Perhaps the thief thought that I would yell out for help when I gained consciousness. What a stupid idea. Only Ryuuko can hear me talk. Adding on to that, my arms were wrapped around my body multiple times and ended in a tight knot in the front. Whoever was doing this knew how to keep me subdued, at least, for a short time.

We were outside again and walking for an unknown amount of time. It was raining because I could hear it, but I couldn’t feel it. No rain splashed onto the bag carrying me. I smelled something very familiar after a while of walking. It was so familiar because I associated it with a man that I dislike.

We were at Mikisugi’s home.

At first I thought Mikisugi may have taken me. After all, he knew about the Kamui more than Ryuuko, and would know the effective ways to keep me subdued. But it wouldn’t explain why he’d stitched my mouth together, because he knows I would never willingly allow him to wear me.

So my second thought was that he perhaps got someone to steal me for him. It would make sense, as Mikisugi could have told them the stitch my mouth shut. But again, unless they were someone that I would love to have wear me, they wouldn’t have a reason to stitch my mouth shut since my arms were twisted around me.

There was a very short list of people who could have done this to me with proper motive, and with most out of the way, I could only assume one of two people. One of those people included Ryuuko.

We stopped moving, and I heard a door opening.

“Ryuuko, what brings you here?” was the voice of Mikisugi.

So it was Ryuuko.

I trusted her. And she betrayed me by not only bringing me to this man whom she knew I detested (though I did not tell her about how he surprised me earlier), but by sewing my mouth shut.

How could she do that to me? How was I supposed to actively do my duty to be her friend when I cannot even talk to her? Conversing, discussing, supporting; those all needed a voice, and that would be my strongest weapon in times like this. Now that it had been taken away, I was left with little more than the ability to sit and stare at her with my one eye. I could no longer bond to her body with it shut.

That traitor.

The bag was pulled from around me, and I squinted, startled by the sudden light. Once my eyes adjusted, I saw Ryuuko, who was shielded from the rain by a small umbrella. The wind was carrying the rain in the direction opposite of Mikisugi’s entrance, so he was generally untouched by the rain.

Ryuuko looked down at me and noticed I was awake, shocked that I was, because she had not intentionally spilt blood on me. She didn’t acknowledge me any more than that, though, giving me the cold shoulder.

“I bound his mouth shut to keep him from forcing himself on me.”

I didn’t see what caused her to say that, though I assume Mikisugi was sending her a questioning look. I was too busy glaring daggers up at her to care.

Since I was eye level with her hips, I noticed a sloppily applied crape bandage underneath the hem of her red shirt (the one that Mikisugi gave her), that had been soiled with copious amounts of blood. I could tell it leaked through because of the blood sliding down her side. That must have been what triggered me awake in the first place.

I didn’t care how she’d gotten that wound. She probably deserved it. Taking me for granted and then running off to get herself injured without me there to protect her. Serves her right.

…I hope it doesn’t get infected.

Ryuuko gestured to something and paused, I don’t know what, but she stepped forward a moment later and shut the door behind her. The scent of wet wood and pavement left us in place of a heavy rose and oakwood smell. It was an attractive smell, which was odd, because before we entered, I could have sworn it smelled like the older scent that Mikisugi had originally used. This was new. It was confusing, and did not serve to uplift my mood. The fact that I noticed such a small detail was peeving me more than it should.

“He tried to force himself onto you…?” Mikisugi repeated, a bit perplexed. His voice wasn’t too far off, but it wasn’t close to Ryuuko, thankfully. Ryuuko nodded and anger bubbled inside me. She obviously misinterpreted what was happening. She was disobeying me and so I had to take initiative. How plain and simple was that?

“So adding a new Banshi thread didn’t work, eh?” Mikisugi hummed, and I could hear him scratching his stubble. The sound of pen scraping against paper soon became background noise.

“I thought you said it would help. It’s just a Banshi!” Ryuuko responded, jerking me around as though I _wasn’t_ a living thing.

“Yes, but Banshi threads differ from thread to thread. They’re not exactly the same each time you have one. There may be something linked specifically to the Banshi thread that Nui snapped.”

Ryuuko began to lean against the doorframe. I saw her wince as she moved, her upper back touching against the wall and thus touching the bandages. Her wound couldn’t have stretched that far up…

What did she do?

“Well, where is it now?”

“If I recall correctly, Nui is still in possession of the Banshi. None were recovered on the battlefield that day, and Banshi threads do not disappear once severed. They simply hibernate until attached to a main source of Life Fibers. What she could possibly do with it, I have no clue.”

My gaze had begun to wander around the room, surveying with little interest as Mikisugi graded a fat stack of papers. For a man who rarely gave out homework to his class, he sure did seem to have a lot of paperwork. He was sitting at the far side of the room, facing away from Ryuuko.

“I could get it back.”

The room seemed to freeze, and I quickly turned my attention back to her, incredulous. Movement from Mikisugi had me glance at him for a quick second. He turned in his seat, hand paused in mid-writing. His eyes swept over Ryuuko’s form.

“You aren’t in the best condition from your previous fight.”

So she did get into a fight while I was asleep.

“I can get it back.”

“Ryuuko, you haven’t recovered yet and you’re bleeding all over the floor.”

So it was. The blood wasn’t very noticeable because the clothes she wore were red. It’s sort of humorous how that could slip past my notice when blood was such a high priority on my mind …Why did I think it was funny? It was wasted blood—blood that I could have consumed!

“I can _get it back_.”

How in the world did she expect to get it back from Nui when she wasn’t even in top physical condition, let alone without _me_?

“No, Ryuuko, you need to stay here and let me fix—“

“I said I can get it back! What part of that don’t you understand?”

I was always intrigued by this side of Ryuuko. The one that was adamant on getting things done despite anything that may get in her way. She was going to try to grab the bull by its horns. Did she not expect to be mauled in the process? Maybe she was too confident if she thought she was going to go after Nui and get away scratch free. After all, Nui was what caused this whole mess in the first place. If she could psychologically manipulate us without even trying, what made Ryuuko think that she would be able to stand up to Nui without me? Without a voice to keep her under control. Without a voice of reason.

And I was curious to know exactly how she was going to get it back.

“And how do you plan on doing that?” My question was voiced by Mikisugi.

“It doesn’t matter how I’m going to do it, because it doesn’t involve you.”

Mikisugi flipped his hair back, and plucked off his sunglasses. This was such an inappropriate time to go Nudist Beach-mode, but he surprised me when he looked rather seriously at Ryuuko. No sunglasses acting as the façade of an average laid-back teacher.

“What are you going to do with Senketsu now that you have to get back his Banshi? Are you willing to risk putting him on again?”

Ryuuko was definitely hesitating. Ryuuko, why are you hesitating? You do realise I am your friend. Your friend that you bound and gagged and dragged here to torture by talking to this man. I can feel you shaking. Don’t be so nervous.

“I…” Come on, Ryuuko, it only takes one syllable. “I don’t know if I can handle that.”

…

What?

“He keeps biting me, and there’s cuts all over my body, and I don’t think I—“

“You don’t have to explain yourself.”

It was hard to define what I was feeling right now. This had to be a dream. The Ryuuko I knew wouldn’t so easily sacrifice her own friend for her own benefit, no matter how bad the situation seemed. It didn’t seem in her nature to do so.

She told me the stories of kids when she was younger, how they would tease her. In a way, she was thankful for it, because it made her stronger in hiding her feelings, but also to learn how to cope with them. She learned not to take things to heart, and if possible, to save what has a chance of saving.

I must have screwed up pretty bad if she bound me in such a way that would prevent me from being on an equal level with her; free and able to voice concerns without prosecution for previous actions. Now I was on the lowest level. She didn’t want to hear anything from me.

I suddenly wondered what she hadn’t yet told me about herself. A reaction strong enough to silence me surely had a backstory to it.

It was quiet until Mikisugi coughed to break the silence. “I can keep him here until you bring back the Banshi.”

My eye widened. Though my mouth was stitched shut, I could still talk to Ryuuko. She was mentally blocking me out. The silence was more painful than all the stitching could have done.

“Ryuuko, don’t leave me with him! Please!” I wanted to say. It was too soon for us to be separated again. I didn’t like feeling empty, without someone to cling to.

I could see the transaction taking place, but my mind refused to believe it. I didn’t believe that Ryuuko was holding out her arm for Mikisugi to take me. I didn’t believe that she willingly let go of me. I didn’t believe that Mikisugi took me.

I saw her stare at me with an unreadable expression. I saw her stare. I don’t like it. I saw her turn and leave. I can’t believe it.

.o

I felt very cold. Being trapped here has given me plenty of time to think about things.

I’ve been strapped to one of Mikisugi’s desks, placed in the corner of the room and surrounded by towers of boxes, papers, and folders.

Mikisugi hasn’t touched me since he stuck me here. I thought he was going to at least try to identify what’s wrong with the Banshi he put inside of me, but instead, he seemed to be occupied with finishing the papers stacked on his own desk.

My thoughts kept drifting to the interaction that happened mere hours ago. I could replay it as though it was happening now, and each time, I cringed. I could recall the exact moment when her touch left my threads and was substituted with Mikisugi’s own. I also recalled the betrayal and pain I felt when she let go. It’s hard to accept being sad when you have no way to emote it.

Over time, though, the more I thought about it, the less it hurt. Every time I visited the memory, the pain was a little bit easier to handle, easier to cope with. I didn’t realise it until I was able to stay away from the subject for minutes at a time. It was that realisation that helped me to detach from it.

I gave myself time to wallow, and now it’s time to let it go. I forced my thoughts away from Ryuuko and to something else, but more than ninety percent of my life had revolved around being in Ryuuko’s presence. The majority of my memories were built around her. It’s impossible to completely ignore it.

Mikisugi just left the room. He turned off the lights and snuffed burning candles. Doing so caused the room to drop another few degrees; it felt like it, anyway. I doubt there was an actual shift of temperature in the room.

I sat in the darkness. This would’ve been a great opportunity to struggle against the straps trapping me to the desk, if I hadn’t used most of my strength to fight against Mikisugi while he was in the process of forcing me down. He was surprisingly strong for his lanky stature. I shouldn’t be surprised by him by now. He’s surprised me enough times already.

…

The shadows are jumping around in the corner of my eye again. When I try to concentrate on them, they disappear, and I can never get a good enough look to identify the shape of the shadow. This went on back and forth for at least half an hour. When I thought I saw a splash of colour in the shadows, they disappeared for about a minute before returning again.

I’m not going crazy, though. I will keep telling myself this over and over. I am not crazy. The shadows had danced before, when I was in here the first time to have a new Banshi thread sewn into me.

It had to have been something he’d hung in this room, but the movements of the shadows seemed too inconsistent and without pattern for me to honestly believe that.

Despite getting a taste of Ryuuko’s blood again today, I was already starting to run low on blood yet again. It was disturbing how the span of time between feedings started coming closer and closer together. This Banshi must have been taking quite a toll on my body. I decided to move into semi-stasis. I didn’t want anything to happen to me without me being aware about it. I didn’t trust the shadows I thought I was seeing.

I’m not able to see them very well in semi-stasis. In fact, they seem to stop moving when I’m in semi-stasis. Maybe it is all just in my head.

I’m not crazy, though.

A Kamui cannot be crazy.

I still can’t believe it.

.o

 

I’m in Ragyo’s facilities.

* * *

Maybe Senketsu wasn’t going crazy after all. I mean, a Kamui eye is much more sophisticated than a human eye, right? It would never play tricks on him.

Thank you to everyone who’s been reviewing thus far across the sites I’ve posted on (and one day AO3 will join that once they decide to open up and express their feels ~~as more than kudos from guests i'm so selfish~~ ). We need more RyuukoxSenketsu fans on this ship. Thankfully after episode 17, more people have been showing up and I’m just shrieking in happiness. Join us.

Also, a kink meme has opened up on dreamwidth. [Click here to join the shippers.](http://kinklakink.dreamwidth.org/)


	8. Chapter 8

I’m in Ragyo’s facilities.

I had no idea how I got in here. I was in semi-stasis for roughly half the night until my reserves dropped dangerously low. Every time I had felt it safe to close my eye, something cold touched me, forcing me to wake from semi-stasis. When I’d looked around, there was nothing there—and I would stare for up to ten minutes trying to decipher anything that looked out of place in the darkness of Mikisugi’s room. It was an endless cycle, and I could feel the touches getting bolder when I kept my eyes closed on purpose. It would try to find sensitive areas, mapping out my erogenous zones and areas that made me feel uncomfortable.

But I couldn’t keep up switching from semi-stasis to consciousness for the entire night. It drained me more waking up from it than going back to sleep, and thus it drained at least one-third of my reserves by the time I’d fallen into stasis. The immediate threat of what lurked in the shadows had remained, but I couldn’t stay awake any longer.

Now I was waking up to blood splattering onto my skin. It did not taste like Ryuko’s blood, but it was sweet, and tasting it the wakeup call I needed to move back into full awareness quickly.

How did I get here?

The atmosphere here was claustrophobic and depressing. It was blue, metal, and cold. The air was stale without any currents to shift it around, making it feel dead, stagnant.

I was strapped onto a vertical platform, sleeve lapels sewn with Life Fibers that extended out of my site. My lower half was bound by Life Fibers that were attached to some type of rack beneath me. A handle was attached to it, though I didn’t understand its function.

Many things rushed through my head when I saw Ragyo and a stout man I didn’t recognise approach me, though none of them needed to be voiced. The clothing queen had a disturbing look in her red eyes that left me uneasy and on high alert.

They stopped in front of me, the man in the butler suit beside her twisting some type of red string in his hands.

“Kamui,” her strong authoritarian voice started me, despite knowing she would speak.

“You are here today because your powers are favourable to our cause.”

Her hand was touching me, and to my shock, it wasn’t as cold as I thought it would be. It didn’t mean that I liked it, though.

“You have been shown to possess a sentience that Junketsu lacks, or at the very most, refuses to show.”

Stop touching my scarf. I don’t like it when you touch my scarf.

“You will be worn by Satsuki Kiryuin. You will run through trials, and eventually face your own human, Ryuko Matoi.”

I could have laughed if I wasn’t feeling so awkward about her caresses. Junketsu had more power than I, and I couldn’t be worn properly by anyone other than Ryuko. If she thought I would submit willingly, then she was just asking to be shown wrong.

“Failure to comply will result in punishment.”

I could take any punishment. Pain is much easier to cope with than death. There’s very few ways one could kill a Kamui.

The doors in the chamber down the left opened, and a tall silhouette stood in the centre. Upon closer examination, it was Satsuki, who was making her way over to our position. Ragyo expected it to start _now_?

Satsuki wasn’t wearing her Kamui. A white robe was draped around her form, and she held it closed with a single hand. She had an unhappy expression on her face that could only be considered a scowl.

Ragyo pulled Satsuki’s face into her hands when she entered a close enough proximity, a smile gracing her lips.

“My dear, are you ready to revel in the beauty and power of a second Kamui?”

They were getting uncomfortably close with each other, and I felt disturbed at this. Ragyo was the enforcer, and Satsuki did not appear to fight back against her mother’s provocative movements. Her hands drifted from her face to her shoulders.

“Yes, Mother,” was her flat reply, eyes looking anywhere but at her mother’s face, which would bump into hers if she moved a few millimeters.

“Good.” Her fingers tightened for a moment around Satsuki, before releasing and focusing their attention back on my fabric.

The man seemed to take this as the moment to unbind me from the contraption, cutting the threads binding my arms and skirt. I twitched in relief, though that was short-lived when Ragyo’s nails dug into my skin. Made herself clear that she did not want any foolish behavior.

We turned, and Satsuki had one arm extended for me to be placed in. I didn’t move to put myself onto her. I wouldn’t fight, no, but I would resist. I didn’t know of Ragyo’s capabilities, but her icy demeanor came off as ideal for a sadistic personality.

Satsuki paused upon feeling me, and I felt like a curiosity that needed to be handled carefully in order to avoid spooking it off. A spectacle that needn’t be disturbed. It was only in that shortest of times that I saw Satsuki lose her blank slate, and I couldn’t put a word on what I saw there.

It cleared when she discarded her robe, and began to slide me over her head. The odd family psychology was very present here considering she’d just stripped nude in front of her mother and the round man without any sign of embarrassment to her nudity.

I felt out of place once my top half hung placidly from her body. I didn’t cling uniformly to her curves as I did Ryuko’s. Her shoulders were a bit too long, and her bust was noticeably different as well. She seemed to share the same distaste, because her face was upset with a taut frown that pulled more at the corners of her mouth than normal. It’s as though putting me own was damaging her pride. I couldn’t agree more though; having to put on what your enemy wears is degrading in a sense.

The bottom half slipped up quickly and her hips were wider compared to Ryuko’s, I noted. I felt disproportionate stretched over her body, too snug in some areas and strained in the others. Satsuki was tense beneath me, feeling cold around the majority of her limbs and the heat pooling into her chest. Despite the heat, her skin still had goosebumps and her nipples remained hard from the chilliness of the room.

If she didn’t like this, why was she so complacent to her mother’s commands? I figured it had something to do with the way her mother interacted with her…

Ragyo pulled something from behind the surface I’d originally been strapped to, and gave it to Satsuki. My eye widened as far as it could go, and I still couldn’t believe what I saw just now. Ryuko’s Seki Tekko now lay in the hands of her enemy. I _know_ for a fact that she did not remove it when she left me. I could look in my memories and see clear as day that she had taken that last piece of me with her away. If the Kiryuins were currently in possession of it, that could only mean that something bad had happened to Ryuko, and it only served to fuel the defiance bubbling inside of me.

That smile remained on Ragyo’s face as she watched her daughter don me. She had a glossy look in her eyes when Satsuki finished putting me on. Her voice was a mere whisper, highly contrasting the odd expression painted on her face.

“Can you move?”

Satsuki took two steps back. Her movements reminded me of what I was supposed to be doing, and I clamped down immediately. She was stronger than I anticipated—though I never underestimated her in battle—and her legs were shaking in an attempt to move any which way. She was moving, but I was overtaxing myself, every fiber in my body devoted to the sole task of not letting her move.

We fought for a few moments over this, but I had more power to exert due to that blood that woke me up. It wasn’t much more than a few slivers, but it was so potent in material that it gave me more energy than Ryuko’s. She stopped straining her muscles, and after I was sure she wouldn’t try to move again, I slowly relaxed my bonds.

“He’s restricting me from doing so.”

“As I thought,” Ragyo sounded too calm for me just defying a direct order from her. Her hand lifted and gestured toward the man in the suit standing idly by. “You wish to be a naughty Kamui? Then you will be trained to behave.”

The man in the suit grunted, coming forth with hands pulling at the string in his hand.

“Nui.”

On cue, Nui stepped out from somewhere. I couldn’t see her since I was facing toward Ragyo, but the sound of her boots against the floor was the only indication she’d been present at all.

“Satsuki, I knew you were hiding that body underneath all that clothing; I didn’t expect it to be so extravagant!” Her voice was way too close from where I just heard her walking. The overwhelming scent of oakwood suffocated me, and I was painfully aware of how strong it was in Mikisugi’s house, too.

I could feel her touch my back, and it was so cold. I tightened my fibers and tried to pull away, but Satsuki’s stance remained firm. She did have to place a hand against one of the tables surrounding us to keep her balance, though. That gave me some satisfaction, however small. It didn’t allow me to forget the small digit tracing patterns down my back though, leaving a frigid burning sensation in its path. I squirmed anxiously, hissing.

“As soft as I last remembered.” She moved around to the front, and I got a full view of Nui Harime. She pinched me, tickled my threads with the needle hooks under her nails, and if I knew any better, she was making inappropriate advances with on Satsuki in the process with flirtatious touches that could be misconstrued as benign interest.

Satsuki was gritting her teeth, looking ready to snap Nui’s neck, but held her tongue in the presence of her mother. She stared stubbornly forward at her mother, which was a confusing shift in behaviour when moments ago she was more than willing to avoid eye contact with her.

“Please get on with it.” Words were clipped; Nui’s presence must have had quite a negative effect on her to herald this bitterness.

Upon saying it, I could feel Nui’s nails press down where they rested, digging into the seams, and gently tugging. “You never like it the long way.”

One of her fingers hooked in more than the others, curving to pull something in my side. She drew back her hand and I convulsed, frightened when all of my senses appeared to distort. My vision started spotting and stretching, I couldn’t hear without it being distorted, and I was getting mixed readings from touching Satsuki, none of which I could understand right now. The more Nui pulled, the more disoriented I became. I knew my body was writhing, but there was no way to control it when she had my ability to perceive reality dangling by a loose thread.

I could hear her laughing, but it was so warbled it sounded more like some type of monster. The only thing I could understand her say was “Look at him!” After that, I’m not sure, because my thread was severed and all my senses cut off.

I was stuck in the dark.

Oh.

Oh, I can’t do anything. I’m scared. I’ll admit it. I’m so scared. I don’t want to be here, just please, give me back my sight, touch, anything. I’ve never had this happen to me, and I can’t stand it. It’s too much like death, like sleeping, except I’m awake and I can’t do anything.

I’m suffocating in here I can’t feel I can’t see I cacan’t hear and I’m falling and and I—

I was only in the darkness for seconds before my senses returned to me. My body jerked as a flood of information rushed back into me. The first thing I saw was the man in the suit holding one of my Banshi, merging one end with the thread that he’d had in his hands earlier. The other side was already mated with the Banshi that was just cut. The thread he carried looked a darker red in colour than my own Banshi.

Nui had severed my Banshi that easily. She had made me lose my mind within seconds.

I pray to whatever deity that may be up there, that I would never have to experience that again.

My body was still reeling from sensory deprivation when the man let go of my Banshi thread. It snapped right into me, as though it was never tampered with in the first place, but I couldn’t help but whimper. Never again.

“Try again.” I heard Ragyo say, and Satsuki moved beneath me. Though overwhelmed by that recent exposure, I was able to catch what she said. Ragyo was trying to force it while I was still out of balance, to catch me off guard, but I was ready. Or so I thought.

Satsuki stepped back, and try as I might, I was unable to stop her. Yes, I could squeeze all I want, but it didn’t hinder her movements at all. She winced when I tightened, but there was no stopping at all. I tried again and again until I wore myself out and didn’t feel the desire to squeeze anymore, but there was no denying that my attempts had no effect.

There was no need to wonder what cut off my ability to stop her. They somehow altered how that particular Banshi worked through the use of their own. But to target a specific action such as restraining the wearer and change it with _another_ Banshi thread, which has such a complex system that the effects of altering its material could be catastrophic? How in the world did they manage to identify the key controls of what lies in a Banshi thread?

Satsuki stopped once she felt that her distance was good enough of an example, and returned to her position in front of Ragyo, though she distanced herself from Nui in the process. She was moving to take me off, but Ragyo stopped her.

“Not yet. Right now, it would be best if you maintained a constant contact with this Kamui. Junketsu had different requirements on his end that put stress on you that carried outside of a transformation. I assume from what I’ve been told that this one does not have the same strenuous requirements.”

Her gaze lowered to stare at me directly, and one of her hands began to wander again, lightly over my skin. I shifted under her scrutinizing. I wasn’t sure if I was ready for her to be touching me again so soon after my Banshi being pulled from me like that. I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to refrain from purging.

“You will receive your punishment after your first battle with Ryuko Matoi.” Her hand left me, and I sighed in relief. I didn’t want to find out the consequences of vomiting all over her daughter. Her gaze returned to her daughter.

“For now, prepare for the evening meal, and afterward, for rest. Only when you sleep and bathe may you remove the Kamui.” She paused, letting it sink into Satsuki that she was stuck with me now for an indefinite amount of time. She was watching her reaction. “Tomorrow, you will begin training to wield his power in transformation and battle.”

Satsuki stiffly bowed her head. “Yes Mother.”

I don’t like this.

* * *

**Note:** For clarification, I do imagine that Junketsu has sentience and the ability to be as normal as Senketsu, but because his whole life has literally been spent with Satsuki, the ability to communicate has been lost, or at least, locked away, because of how tightly wrapped Satsuki keeps her mind. She doesn’t want to talk to him, so she puts up mental barriers to keep him from synchronising as Senketsu and Ryuko do, and instead forces him to transform all the way, hence the override. It would take a pretty fair amount of time for Junketsu to return to a proper psychological state like Senketsu.

Also, I’m done with double letters.


	9. Chapter 9

Apparently Satsuki liked to eat in seclusion.

We passed an extravagant dining room that was too gaudy for one child and her mother alone. I assumed it must have been for the servants, which was odd, considering what Ryuko told me about wealthy people. Servants weren’t supposed to get lavish materials. Yet I could already see a few getting ready to sit down at the table decked with the course of the night. They summarily bowed upon the arrival of Satsuki, staying still where they stood, waiting on orders. They did not comment on her new attire.

She brushed off their gesture, continuing forward and into a second room that was lined with books. A set of doors sat at the back of the room, outlined by white borders that stuck out against the general steel grey of the room. We headed that way and Satsuki pushed open the doors.

It was a rather simple room. I wasn’t sure what purpose this room served aside from perhaps a guest room due to the bed and dresser, but when Satsuki perched herself on the edge of the bed, I realised this was her room.

I was surprised by her lack of personal items in the room. Even Mako’s household had _something_ —stuffed animals, drawings—something to identify with. To see it so stock bare…

She was sitting here, staring down at her hands. I took this time to scan the room. Her Bakuzan rested, sheathed, above her bed. Above it was a symbol similar to the design of a Kiryuin. Her bed was covered with a tan duvet, and pillows with navy blue sleeves rested at the head of the bed. A stand was on either side of the bed, and the one on the left had an empty platter and a picture frame placed on it; I couldn’t see the one on the right because I was facing away from it, but I did see something on it when we’d walked into the room. There was a painting of stylised katakana hanging on the wall left of my position, and two tall vases containing a foreign plant flanking the sides of the painting.

My observations were cut short when a knock was heard on the door, and it creaked open with a servant carrying a tray. She walked swiftly and silently over to Satsuki’s position, bowing respectfully once she came to a stop. “Lady Satsuki,” she addressed, presenting the tray to Satuski. Satsuki took it, setting it on her lap, and nodded at the servant girl. And with that, she was gone.

The tray was warm on me, heated by the food on the plate. I couldn’t tell what it was, considering that all Ryuko ever ate was the mashup of foods cooked by Mrs. Mankanshoku, but the closest thing I could relate it to would be fish. A cup of tea sat at the far right of the platter, steaming and ready to be sipped.

So she ate. Albeit slowly. It gave me time to think about my options at this point. I now knew that I couldn’t force her to stop. The new Banshi wired into me hasn’t shown any other ways to hinder me, not yet. I wondered if I could still move freely when not being worn. I assume it’s possible, considering I can still squeeze Satsuki.

I could always just squeeze at random intervals to distract her, but if they take that away, I’d be no different from any regular clothing.

With how many servants were in the area, it would be impossible to escape without being noticed some time down the road of trying to run.

And what about when I have to face Ryuko? How will she react when she sees me working for the enemy? It’s not my choice, but I still feel ashamed for having to serve them with no way to retaliate.

So I’m basically stuck here until the Kiryuins see no more use of me?

Satsuki finished, wiping her mouth with the handkerchief left on the left side of the tray. In a way, I appreciated that she did not eat with others. I didn’t know if Ragyo or even Nui accompanied her during a meal, but if they did, it would be painfully awkward to endure whatever they would bring upon Satsuki, especially Ragyo. I didn’t like how she interacted with Satsuki. Not because Satsuki was wearing me or anything like that, but because Ragyo was getting close to the border of a genetic taboo.

She sat the tray beside her and ran her hands through her hair, brushing back her bangs and sighing. To see a side of Satsuki so unrestricted as on the battlefield, nude and naïve without fear of observation, was interesting. It’s easy to forget how many duties were put into her hands as the president of a Student Council, but the stress of it certainly showed in her body’s condition.

But alas, it didn’t last forever. She noticed my staring and her lips pressed into a frown, the shadow cast from the window behind her exaggerating her displeasure with sharp jagged edges. She moved to take me off, bundling up her hair so it wouldn’t get caught in the process. With me removed, I was held out before her. The frown was still there, but it had softened after she stared at me for a few minutes. She was looking at the wall Junketsu was on and then back at me, and then to her closet and dresser. She seemed contemplative.

Over her shoulder I could see Junketsu nailed to the wall parallel to her bed, and close to the window. The placement was interesting; it prevented Junketsu from seeing Satsuki while she slept, but still gave him an otherwise wide area to view. I didn’t have much knowledge of Junketsu other than his power in combat, but being nailed to the wall seemed a bit excessive. The Kamui was in stasis, though.

Was he aggressive like me? Is that what forced him to be nailed to the wall like I was?

Satsuki stood, and my attention focused back on her. She was moving toward the closet, to hang me there, I assumed. Instead, she grabbed a robe and wrapped it around her naked body. She walked over to the entrance to her room and knocked once. A few seconds later the door cracked open to reveal yet another servant girl, this one shorter than most of the ones I’d seen working here. “Yes, Lady Satsuki?” she said in a smooth but quiet voice.

“Wash this for me.” She held me out on her arm, and the girl took me. I blinked. This girl had a really strong grip for someone of her stature.

“Would you like it brought back to you when it’s done?”

“On the door handle will do.”

She bowed, and closed the door in front of us. That was the last I saw of Satsuki for the night.

.o

I was moved into several pairs of hands throughout the next hour. There was a lot of talk in the laundry room, men and women alike hand-washing expensive clothing and towels. Some hands inspected my skin, trying to figure out what would be the best way to wash my fabric.

My round around the wash racks ended with a tall female who handled me briefly before setting me aside to work on the load that she was currently assigned to. She talked to the man who handed me to her in a language I didn’t understand, but I did recognise ‘Kamui’ mentioned once or twice. She made some gestures with one hand, the other placing a dark blue robe into the washing tub. All of the clothes that I sat next to were darker in colour, most of them monochrome or dark shades of blue and brown.

The pile slowly filed down, tub by tub, as she kneaded away any dirt or other imperfections. The last load was currently sitting aside in a separate tub to soak in fabric softener. I was her last piece of clothing to wash for the night.

She picked me up, and paused when she felt my skin. She held me up close to her eyes, scrutinising the texture of my fabric with intrigue. She muttered something in that language I didn’t understand, rubbing her fingers over the threads. I could feel how wrinkled her skin became from prolonged exposure to the water, and it felt very odd indeed. She flipped me over, doing a general scan of my body, before pushing me into the newest tub of water.

The coldness of the water shocked my systems, keeping me still for a few moments. The woman must have felt the goosebumps rising on my skin, because she paused once again. Normally the cold didn’t bother me, but I’d been sitting near a vent that released steam at the time, which had warmed me up considerably. The sudden change of temperature wasn’t welcolmed.

I was shivering, and I heard her whisper ‘Kamui’ again, and then pulling me out of the tub. I was cold and sopping wet, and she waved over someone out of my view. Her language was spoken again, and after a few exchanges and pointing at me and ‘Kamui’, the tub she was working with was dragged away. She looked at me and mumbled a word, looking at me in my eye. It was odd being recognised as a living Kamui by someone other than Ryuko. Most people saw my eye as mere decoration, ignorant even to it moving around.

I heard another tub thud in front of the girl, and I was sunk into water again. The feeling of warm waters was so soothing after that, but I was still rigid for a few moments. She began to lather me into the sudsy water, and a minute later I was limp in her hold.

The detergent used in the water was creeping into my seams, her hands helping to lather it into my body. It relaxed my fibers, smoothing down the goosebumps and softening my body’s material. Her fingers were skilled in kneading away the dirt without scrubbing me furiously, as Mrs. Mankanshoku would. I would even say that her technique was better than Ryuko’s.

It went on like this for some time before she finished and placed me in the bin next to the one in front of her. It was clear water unlike the one I was just in, and was just as warm as it. The woman grabbed a bottle from the side and poured some type of contents into the water. I read the label as fabric softener. The fabric softener was working wonders on me. My body felt airy and light despite being consumed by water. I groaned, closing my eye, and letting myself sink all the way into the water.

I was left to dry hanging above that same vent that I’d been placed near, the air blasting from underneath me and causing my skirt to expand outward. The moisture was evaporating and leaving me with a warm, tingly feeling.

And then I was hanging on Satsuki’s door. The same girl who took me away brought me back, and knocked once on the door before departing. There was little motion out here, with the occasional servant passing past my view. Satsuki never responded, so I assumed she was asleep.

I should be asleep too. I don’t want to waste my energy; I don’t know when or even if I’ll ever get a chance to take in more blood. I went into stasis.

.o

I didn’t come out of stasis until Satsuki poured blood onto me. When I woke up, we were on one of Honnouji Academy’s battle grounds. I woke with a start, fueled by more of that sweet blood.

“Prepare to transform,” was my only warning before she pulled the trigger on the Seki Tekko and blood tapped into my system.

“Life Fiber Synchronise, Kamui Senketsu!” A flood of her thoughts swarmed my mind  as we began. It always began with a transfer of thoughts after the first prick of blood. It connected the mind and body with one another for faster reaction times, smoother movement, and fair amount of energy consumption by doing said actions. It also allowed for me to warn my wearer of things that they could not see or were too slow to react with the normal human senses they were gifted with.

I heard her thinking of the transformation, and heard more than saw her reaction to it when it occurred. There was amazement, presumably because my transformation process was not as aggressive and forced as Junketsu’s. She did not need to force me to override, and that’s partially my fault, but being forced to transform would be more painful than not, if my experience with Matoi had any factor.

Waking up and immediately transforming is not great way to start the day. While blood is nice, it would have been better to have my mind in the right place to transform instead of catching me off guard. It hindered the transformation by a few seconds, causing me to lurch as I struggled to move things in their proper position. Straps snapped into place, body molding to Satsuki’s flesh as though it were her own, blood surging through my systems. Her blood tasted different from the one that she had poured on me to wake me up. It was tangy, vibrant, and syrupy, not like the blood before, which was dark and thick.

I let out a bit of steam from the back vent when the transformation was complete, and felt her shut off her mind as soon as it did. The rush of euphoria died down with her thoughts, and it was time to concentrate again.

I thought I’d have time to think about what I could do to prevent her from making it easy to fight Ryuko, but gun turrets suddenly shot up and pointed at us in all directions, live artillery firing at us immediately. Didn’t expect training to start so quickly.

Her movements were much more controlled than Ryuko’s. We weren’t jumping all over the place trying to dodge bullets and attacks from enemies. Rather, we simply _moved out of the way_. Satsuki wasn’t expending more energy than she needed to, which was useful for keeping the amount of blood consumed relatively low. However, I sucked in a bit more blood than normal during the trial runs, because Satsuki’s power was much more controlled, precise, than Ryuko’s.

She tested my durability, flexibility, and strength when attacking the turrets. It was flawless, Bakuzan slicing through and destroying the turrets one by one.

We went through a few different maneuvers afterwards, establishing my strengths and weaknesses in a relatively short time. Satsuki now knew where to balance her stance when running, she found out how much pressure could be put on me before steam needed to be released. She located the weak areas from where I’d been cut in previous battles with Ryuko, the areas that weren’t stitched up as good and had a greater chance of injury. She even figured out what her stopping point would be with me should she start running low on blood. I felt horrible for aiding her in Ryuko’s downfall by letting her study how I worked.

There was still enough blood to spare by the time she wrapped up the session. I was still humming with energy; I could probably go another five rounds before I’d overexert myself, but she seemed content to end it right now.

Metal surrounded us, debris and circuitry an accessory to the sheer amount of it. The only sign that Satsuki had even been hit was a stray dot of blood marking where one of the turrets used to be.

Seemingly satisfied with her results, she cancelled the synchronisation, and I returned to my natural form, feeling the last bit of flowing blood come to a stop and left with just blood reserves.

And that was it for the day. Satsuki was constantly overseeing paperwork when she wasn’t drinking tea, training, or anything else that Ryuko and I speculated she might do. I didn’t pay much attention to the paperwork after I saw that most of it related to club registration, building management, and housing fines, among other things. My mind wandered to ways I could get back at them for stealing me, once again. Running through any possible scenarios that may give me a chance at escape, as well as what I could do to possibly make their lives more of a hassle. I didn’t really worry about punishment because I am a Kamui. I can handle pain. Whatever torture Ragyo has in store, I can take it. She won’t break me.

My interest was drawn back to Satsuki when she withdrew a slip from one of the desk’s drawers. The envelope had bold red letters marked on it. She opened it, but intentionally kept it out of my view. Normally she would just lay the letter down on the desk and read it from there, but she even made sure I couldn’t see what was written through the paper, by putting another sheet of paper beneath that one.

I felt a familiar trickle of annoyance seeping back into me, the one I felt with Ryuko multiple times throughout the past few weeks, and it urged me to tighten on her to let her know of my displeasure. But she snapped the paper back into the envelope and shoved it into the desk. Her body was getting warmer, and curious, I tried to peek in into her mind to see what she was thinking. The barriers were still holding firm, and upon feeling my tentative prodding in her mind, she glared down at me and told me to stop.

What nerve she had. I pinched at her skin as she stood up and moved out of the office-like area and into her own room, making sure that she was uncomfortable every step of the way, even if she didn’t show it. I could feel her cringing as I bit into sensitive areas, hard enough to draw blood. Once there, she immediately proceeded to pull me off and onto the ground.

We stared at each other for a few moments, both unwilling to drop our gaze. After the initial tension, however, I looked away, at Junketsu in stasis on the wall. I wonder if he’ll be used again. I don’t like the idea of me becoming his replacement, especially since I’m considered the enemy. I would do everything in my power to keep that from becoming a reality.

Satsuki dumped herself onto her bed, not even bothering to dress into at least a robe. She wrapped a layer of blankets around her, the moonlight from her window casting an eerie glow on her form once she settled in facing in my direction. Her eyes stared at me from under a curtain of black hair, watching to see if I would do anything that may be considered threatening. I suspected that Satsuki more often than not had Junketsu stuck on the wall when he wasn’t in use, because this level of distrust between her and I was palpable. She didn’t trust Kamui, despite everything she’d said to Ryuko in battle that made us believe it so.

I remained where I was on the ground, not bothering to move into a more comfortable position with her observing me the way she was. I wasn’t keeping track of the time, but it seemed like hours before she finally managed to close her eyes.

And I waited more. I could hear her heartbeat even from where I was, it beginning to slow. It was so quiet in here, any tension left in me melting away when I recognised her sleeping.

Without the troubles of her life bearing down on her shoulders, her face wasn’t scrunched up in a serious expression. It was much like Ryuko when she slept; the stress fades away to leave behind a tranquil, pleasing face. It would smooth out the contours of the face, revealing unblemished surfaces, and a beauty that was held in during a battle.

I watched for a while before determining this was detrimental to saving blood, so I shuffled quietly over to where Junketsu was nailed to. It was illogical, irrational, to find comfort in a Kamui that had been out for your blood and death, having been worn by the enemy, but it was a Kamui nonetheless. Any kin would have been a sort of sanctuary in a place where you were seen as dangerous from all perspectives. I considered Junketsu dangerous, but he was in stasis, and he wouldn’t be able to hurt me.

I leaned against the wall beneath him, giving the back of Satsuki’s head a glance before staring at the floor in front of me.

And I fell into recharge with thoughts of Ryuko lingering in my mind.

* * *

**Note:** I deliberated on whether to have Senketsu transform with override or synchronise. However, Synchronise seems more understandable because 1.) Maiko was able to synch up with Senketsu (even though his positioning was totally backwards) despite having no former relationship or experience with him and 2.) Senketsu isn’t the type of Kamui to need to be forced so brutally like Junketsu into transforming. He’s unwilling, but he’s not an asshole like Junketsu probably is (then again, Junketsu don’t have no one to love him so he has to be a hard ass to hide his feels).

And no, Senketsu WON’T LOSE HIS WAYYYYY. He’ll find a way to put a halt to their nefarious plans. Somehow. But a Kamui can only do so much.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not posting anything guys. The Tumblr KlK fandom distracted me for so long with me drawing so much art for them. The only thing that broke me out of that cycle to write this was me oversleeping by eight hours and thus losing the urge to draw after 2 hours of sleep haha. MUST DRAW EVEN MORE.
> 
> Haha, but really, other than that, I’ve been just procrastinating against writing this scene out. I don’t want Senketsu to fight Ryuko, and episode 19 did NOT HELP THAT IN ANY WAY. Ugh.

The next two days were the following routine: wake up, eat, train, office work, eat, sleep. Ragyo didn’t interfere in Satsuki’s life in these two days, most likely having gone back to the hell she crawled out of. Unfortunately Satsuki learned fast, and had basically mastered everything short of being able to communicate with me.

In the time that passed, I noticed two things. One: Satsuki usually regarded Junketsu with a long stare before she went to bed. She didn’t seem to notice my staring at her when she did this; otherwise, I’m sure she’d stop this habit at some point. Two: She stopped showing signs of irritation when I did something she didn’t appreciate, such as staring at her questionably when she did something she did not want me to see. It was almost as though she’d become lax in my presence, a small window of acceptance to her donning me.

Of course, a Satsuki that accepts her enemy would not be the real Satsuki. She still showed distrust towards me, like when she hides certain documents from my eye. This habit has shown a lot more on the second day, where half of the papers that she read were held where I couldn’t see them.

So, again, two days have passed. We’re now entering the next day, but Satsuki has broken cycle and chosen not to train with me. I had a bad feeling that today would be the day. I wasn’t anticipating this day because, to be honest, I was trying to forget that it was going to happen. I can’t do much short of trying to keep her from putting me on, since my ability to stop her had been disabled. Having to expect Ryuko’s downfall would shred any will inside me to pieces. I needed the thought of her safe to keep me strong.

And unfortunately, I was right.

Today was the day that we would be fighting her. I could see her even from this high staircase that we were scaling down. I could see the look in her eyes that was begging the question “Why?”

I was jumping for joy on the inside upon seeing her, but even so, I was withering away at the realisation that she _would_ be seriously harmed today. She wasn’t even wearing any other type of protective gear; just the red track suit that Mikisugi gave her. The only chance of her surviving was gripped in her hands—the scissor blade. Even then, it wouldn’t be enough to take Satsuki down given how easily she mastered me.

When Satsuki’s foot landed on the cold ground, I felt myself cold despite the warming body beneath me.  I couldn’t hear her heartbeat from here, and it worried me. She was staring at me so intensely it made me want to disappear in the spot we stood.

Ryuko was the first to talk, and I hung on to every word she said. I felt Satsuki respond, a lilt in her voice as she stated the facts. What possibilities did Ryuko have without her own Kamui? I almost expected her and I to transform, because that was normally when we did so. But it was Satsuki and I. Apparently Ryuko had irrationally provoked her into transforming. I say ‘provoke’ because ‘taunting’ wouldn’t be the right word. Ryuko opening expressed her distaste with me being worn by Satsuki, and how she “wouldn’t know how to wield me even if there was a complete manual on it.” Satsuki accepted that challenge and transformed.

The moment that she unsheathed her Bakuzen and pointed it towards Ryuko, I let myself blank out the events that followed. It was like being in semi stasis, but I was fully awake. I let my ability to think slow down, my reactions dulled and easier to cope with. The pain still remained there. I’m going to have to face this sooner or later.

I flinched whenever I felt her blood splash onto me, scared of what she was going through, scared for her. Wishing that she’d just go away so that we wouldn’t have to be doing this. We don’t have to be doing this, but Ryuko wants to. To free me from this porcelain tomb.

I could hear the grunts and yelps of her, but I didn’t grab onto them and keep them close to me like I wanted to. I hadn’t heard her voice in so long; I’m guilty of keeping even those pained ones drawn by the one enemy I was helping to defeat her.

We moved efficiently. Satsuki’s able to hold up on her own without me really there to assist her. I’m just being worn by her, not aiding her. That thought comforts me a bit.

I’m not seeing Ryuko shivering. I’m not seeing her cough up blood and swear, I’m not seeing her limping, no, I’m not seeing her attacks getting blocked. No.

No, I’m not seeing her stare at me through the blood on her face.  
  
Ugh, she nicked me pretty good on my good eye. That really hurts. But it hurts for her; anything to bring my power down a peg and to bring Satsuki down as well.

Nono, I’m not seeing her get forced down to the ground because of a mistake she made in her movements. She’s not slow, not in any way. Without me though—

NO, I do not see Satsuki pointing her Bakuzen at Ryuko, it’s not lifting it’s not lifting it’s n—

It’s not going to go down. It’s NOT going to go down. No. I won’t let her.

 

…and it didn’t go down.

What happened?

I looked around at the scene that just played out. Everything felt normal except that Satsuki’s blood was no longer coursing through me. Steam still fogged up the area, and I could only assume that we had just transformed back.

Satsuki stumbled a bit on the sudden shift back, balancing on her Bakuzen on the side and _not_ currently buried inside of Ryuko.

I blinked. Ryuko had disappeared from the spot she’d been pinned to just moments ago. She’d fled, and the only remainder of her here was the puddle of blood from where she’d just been.

I let out a heavy sigh. It was better for her to have run than to have suffered death at the hands of me.

Satsuki, on the other hand, was not satisfied with the turnout of the battle. I could feel her body quivering, and I could only assume it was from frustration from not being able to deal the final strike.

.o

I was missing a few pieces of my body when we’d come back. Ryuko had managed to deal out a lot more damage than I realised in my drugged-esque state. I was missing a good portion of my skirt, a few holes on my arms, and even an entire suspender missing. For someone who was facing a Kamui with nothing more than a single weapon, she did connect that blade an impressive amount of times to Satsuki’s body.

Satsuki removed me and had me sent to one of the seamstresses located in the building once the pieces that had torn off had been located. I don’t know how many seamstresses there actually are here, but seeing as how Satsuki never damages her suits, I would assume not many. But most likely more than one, if the amount of servants washing clothes had any indication. There was always more than one of anything with the Kiryuin family.

The seamstress poked at me with a needle, weaving through my threads to stitch back my separated pieces. It tingled but didn’t hurt. Yes, the areas surrounding the cut areas was a bit sore, but it was numbed from the afterglow of the battle. She was careful with her work, and ultimately ended up with a solid, strong bond in the stitching. It was good enough for my body to start doing self-repairs of its own, melding the stitching away to blend seamlessly with my skin once more.

The battle hadn’t lasted very long, maybe ten minutes tops, at the start of the day as well. However, I was not returned to Satsuki right away. I was passed back to one of the servants who washed clothes, and was given a quick scrub around the areas that had just been repaired. Probably to assess how well it healed and if any of the stitching was loose. It wasn’t because of my creator’s fine engineering, and they wouldn’t be able to find anything out of the ordinary. I was hung up on the racks and left to dry for about fifteen minutes.

I wondered if my stress was what caused us to transform back. Even though I was suppressing my reactions, I still exploded under seeing Ryuko’s execution about to take place. I didn’t feel the emotions burst, but they had to of, because we’d changed back. Even when I’d gone Berserk, uncontrolled feelings on my end did not provoke a revert in transformation. In fact, my emotions, no matter how strong, have never provoked a reversal.

I would have to think more about this later, because the time spent hanging up on this wall was not enough time for me to think fully into this. To sum it up, Satsuki could not have been the initiator of the reversal. It just wasn’t in her nature to stop like that, I knew that much. I couldn’t have been the initiator because I was not designed to cancel out a transformation from emotion alone. A lack of energy or upon my wearer’s wish are the only ways to cancel out.

I was returned to Satsuki and worn as usual. Hah, listen to me. Saying things like ‘as usual’ as though it were _normal_ to be here. The thought of becoming so easily accustomed to the lifestyle of the enemy was sickening.

It’s perverse to become one with the enemy like this.

.o

I became more and more increasingly stressed as the days went by. Coupled with the fact that I’ve been unable to see Ryuko and check on her condition, Ragyo’s absence in the punishment she promised was starting to unnerve me. Of course, Ragyo wasn’t here in Honnouji Academy often, and I wasn’t even sure if she was going to be the one to be dealing out the punishment.

I can’t say I’m scared of her punishment. Just unsettled by the amount of time that was passing between our battle and the supposed punishment. Ragyo did not seem like the type of person to stiff on what she says.

Today I was being ironed for the first time since my imprisonment here. I’m ashamed to say that this iron is so much better than the one used in Mrs. Mankanshoku’s household. It wasn’t as harsh with the heat (as nice as that was), and was generous with steam pressing.

My handler was not the same person as the one who’d first washed me. This one was a thin, dark skinned man who smiled and talked to me as he worked my threads. He obviously didn’t expect any response back from me as he ironed me, but I do remember him mentioning that ironing me was a much more pleasant experience than ironing ‘the other one’. I’m guessing he means Junketsu.  

I basked in the heat, but it wasn’t enough to stop the troubled thoughts of Ryuko floating back into my mind.

What if Ryuko was dead?

From the corner of my eye, light engulfed the room in a blinding aurora. I was used to it by now though, which again was scary—how used to the enemy I was becoming, and even more so that I haven’t seen Ragyo up close and personal in a week or so now. I shouldn’t be this accustomed to things.

Ragyo was merely passing through the room, observing only for a minute. She really had no business being here, I thought, because there were probably people to manage the people working on me, and people managing the people managing, and so forth. Her visiting this room by herself without some people in power accompanying her—people responsible for these laundry servants—was highly suspicious. I could see her staring at me with a bright look in her red eyes.

She smirked at me.

And it hit me. _This_ was my punishment. No, it wasn’t a physical one, but the psychological stress that it places on one may as well qualify it as such when it wreaks havoc like this.

My punishment was living with knowing that I’d injured someone I cared for—on purpose, and doing nothing to stop it. And then living a life of what could only be considered luxury for a Kamui, without protesting hard enough.

The steam pressing lost all of its pleasure, and I wilted significantly under the man’s touch. He paused, confused, now that I’d stopped leaning into his touches. I didn’t feel any desire to be touched by him anymore. I’m sickened by my behaviour. Enjoying this as though nothing was inherently wrong with it. Not even considering how much of a traitor it would make me to willingly submit under the iron of a person other than Ryuko.

They say the most intimate gesture one can perform with a loved one is killing them. That’s what Ragyo said to me just now. The people in the room were confused as to why she said it, but I understood loud and clear. And it made me angry.

It’s impossible that Ryuko could have died. She wasn’t at the scene when the steam had cleared. There was blood trailing where she’d left, but that didn’t mean she was dead.

It’s impossible that she’s dead. Ryuko can’t just _die_ like that. No, she wouldn’t die like that. I _didn’t_ kill her.

But I can’t hear her heartbeat.

What if I won’t be able to hear it again?

 

NO, I’ve got to stop thinking with that mindset. I will be able to hear it again, I’ve just got to find a way to get out of here.

But still…

What would I do if she was gone? I’m scared of that.  I don’t want to think about that ever. She would never die as long as she was under my watch.

But she’s not anymore.

No…

* * *

 

 **Note:** Oh man I can’t stop referencing back to Glass Tomb when I’m writing Ryuko fighting Satsuki. Aghh Junketsu, why are you so influential.  

I was gonna throw in some Nui torture with her cold touch but I figured that may throw off the flow of the story. And writing Nui torture for Senketsu without her completely mutilating him at this current stage isn’t something I want to happen right now.

GJ (Guest) – No, I don’t plan on using the plot from the new episodes in this. I  had the plot lined out since like, episode 15? So anything you see here is already predetermined and not really influenced by the newest episodes. I mean, there are a feeeeew exceptions which I’ve changed my story to form around, but they’re minor details, not really heavily plot related. Also, I don’t have plans on getting Satsuki and Ryuko intimately involved here. Just not the AU for that.


	11. Chapter 11

I think I’ve finally figured out a way to stop Satsuki. It’s not a straightforward method, but it’s also not completely noticeable for hopefully a long time.

Satsuki and I have been training a lot more often. I don’t really understand why, considering Ryuko is no match for her without me.  Beyond that first encounter with Ryuko, there was one other occasion that ended up with her fleeing yet again with more injuries than before. She was persistent, but trying to go head on without anything to back her up was foolish. It was also so uncharacteristic of her to do something so rash.

When we transform, I usually just take in the amount of blood necessary to function at optimum performance. I remembered back to the time before Ryuko had gotten over the embarrassment of wearing me, when I had to suck in much more blood to work well. It put a lot of strain on her body and her blood count ran down quicker, making her more likely to run from a fight sooner.

If I could apply the same technique to Satsuki, we could avoid a confrontation that could last long enough to seriously harm Ryuko.

We’ve transformed two times since I started this, one in training and one against Ryuko herself. I didn’t drain as much blood with training; I didn’t want her to become suspicious of my intentions. I only took about a half more in training, and two times as much in actual combat.

I took a certain black glee knowing that I was causing her to fault in her movements. She breathed a lot heavier when maneuvering complex routines, had to concentrate harder in what she was trying to do, and leaving her more vulnerable for a well-placed attack from Ryuko.

Satsuki’s shown a decline in responsiveness and health ever since I executed my plan. She often times had to lean against a wall or use her Bakuzan similar to a cane when walking due to her stumbling so often. She refused to show this weakness in the company of others, but when we are alone, like in the hallways, she’d succumb and let her weight rest on one of the two.

A twinge of guilt won’t give me enough motivation to stop doing it. I will stick to this through the very end.

The only issue I’ve found from this plan is that there is way too much blood for my reservoirs to hold. I’ve had to remain out of stasis and semi-stasis for more than half a day for my reserves to drop back down to a normal level I was accustomed to. With so much available, it gave me a certain high, a toxic effect that while I enjoyed, it kept me from being fully aware of everything around me.

I haven’t been worn by Satsuki today. There was a male servant, one whom I’ve come to known as Soroi from Satsuki, that came into her room this morning. He stopped in front of where she laid and rested a hand on her shoulder. Lightly shook, and she eventually woke up. I didn’t really hear what he said because I was in semi-stasis, but I saw some small movements from her before he exited. When she woke up, she dressed in one of the white robes and left as well.

I sat here for about an hour, alone, allowing the excess blood I’ve been taking from Satsuki to run its course so that I’d be left with enough room for more the next time she tried to abuse my power. With so much to waste, I decided to spend the rest of my time in front of Junketsu.

There wasn’t really much to look at since he was asleep. I studied his details, watching as dust motes floated in and out of the rays of light. Watching them as they landed on him and covering him in a thin layer of dust. I wish I was that dust mote right now; free from the shame and embarrassment of being violated by the enemy by being used by them. I briefly wondered how Junketsu felt about being used as like a cheap toy, only to be thrown back into the drawer once it’s served its purpose.

And an idea popped into my head.

I still had a lot of blood to spare. Gathering some up from my reserves, I drew it into my mouth and spit it towards him.

Most of it missed and landed on the wall, but a few drops landed on the edge of the white fabric, disappearing within seconds as the sleeping Kamui drank. Moments later, Junketsu’s eyes snapped open, pink and blood red colors jumping crazed in search of more blood. The nails holding him back strained, and one on his arm even managed to pop off and prick me from the force Junketsu had propelled it at.

Junketsu eventually stopped thrashing in place, opting to stare at me. It was intense underneath his imposing stare. I felt small, diminutive, and very cautious despite his inability to move from where he was pinned. I couldn’t even hold his gaze. But I still spoke.

“Kamui…” I began, but I had nowhere to go from here. It’d be illogical to think it wouldn’t work; it was more illogical to wake him up without a plan to go with it. Or even just something to talk about.

He didn’t respond to my silence. His stoic gaze pierced into me as he lifted his now-unbound arm and waved it toward himself. He was gesturing for me to come to him.

Of course it would be stupid to do so. He was my enemy. To be in such a near proximity to him while he was awake was most likely a death wish. And yet, I felt compelled to do so. I woke him up for selfish reasons on my end, wanting companionship. Whatever he wanted so soon, perhaps it was worthwhile?

Warily, I shuffled over to him, extending one of my arms towards him. This was stupid, this was such a stupid idea and I shouldn’t be doing this—

It’s too late to go back now. His arm already knotted around me and was dragging me up toward his body. I made an awkward noise, fully supported only by his arm. It quickly wrapped around my body, trapping my body against his.

My reactions were sluggish as though drugged. I was so full of energy a few moments ago and now I feel as though I’m about to enter semi-stasis. Struggling was such a tiring action.

Hahh, what are you doing? That doesn’t feel very good. You’re biting into me or something, but I can’t see it because my eyes are covered by your body.

I don’t know what he was doing but it felt disgusting. Things were wriggling inside my body, messing with the blood stored inside my fibres, sucking it out. The feeling of it flowing involuntarily throughout my body was a truly unsettling thing to experience. I twisted against his grip, whimpering pathetically with my attempts to get out of his hold.

I knew this was a bad idea. He’s stealing my blood. It feels so weird and good and horrible at the same time. I knew I shouldn’t have done this. I can hear him making quiet groans; it’s fascinating to hear his voice. So he can speak. He just refuses to do so. Oh, it’s starting to slow down. He’s squeezing me too tightly. His tie is rubbing against my right eye and that feels nice—

Ugh, he’s forcing the old dried up reserves he had through my body. He’s pushing it with the blood I consumed, pushing it back into me. Oh, this is nauseating. It’s going to block my reserves or keep me from consuming as much or _something_. I don’t know.

He kept taking and taking, and I was starting to get worried that he’d take more than I’d be able to sustain myself off of, but then he stopped. I was dropped to the ground, a small amount of blood leaking from his mouth. There was a trail near my mouth as well, and I quickly absorbed it. I pushed away, bumping against the wall parallel to his. I peered at him from the corner of my eye, unable to stare full front. He was observing me as though that did not just happen. It was easy to feel vulnerable under his scrutinising.

I shook off the nail that had pricked me, slowly dragging myself away from him and back to my original place out of his range of view. I was so desperate for any semblance of what I could call a feasible relationship, even if that meant with another Kamui of the enemy faction.

It was most likely the amount of blood that he’d drawn that had worn me out so much. Stasis sounded really good right about now, even though I didn’t need it. I didn’t need it.

But I’m so tired.

I would fight off stasis. I need to be in semi-stasis.

Good afternoon Junketsu.

.o

Someone moving into the room woke me up. It didn’t take more than a long haired silhouette to let me know it was Satsuki.

She wasn’t walking very steadily. She was shaking and using the wall to walk and it was such a pitiful sight to see. She stepped on the hem of my skirt as she edged her way to the bed, but I didn’t make any movements.

Her robe dropped and she paused, hissing as it fell off. It still hung off of her left arm, the one balancing her against the wall. Her hair remained draped in front of her, so I was given an unobscured look of her backside.

Curiously, I turned where I was on the floor and surveyed Satsuki’s current state. I never really took the time to observe Satsuki’s body when it was so bare. I can’t say it’s bare even with her clothes off.

Her skin was covered in scars and bruises. They littered the back of her thighs, her back, arms and I’m pretty sure if she turned around, they would continue across the entirety of her front. It painted a picture of damage that was common for injuries received from battle, but also depicted a disturbing reality of abuse, if the ring of finger print bruises on her upper arm was any indication.

I don’t remember seeing the bruises where they were when I last saw her bare. These ones were recent, so it was a question of who was doing it to her.  Since I wasn’t with her today, I didn’t know. She didn’t wear me even though her mother commanded her to do so every day. Something isn’t right here.

Was I really doing the right thing by harming Satsuki in battle? Who was the real victim here anyway?

No. Satsuki is the enemy. You do not worry about the enemy nor question the morality of your actions. You are supposed to be helping your escape further along, not hindering it.

Satsuki eased herself carefully onto the bed, one leg, and then the other. Lowered herself down, wincing the entire time and pausing more than once when she accidentally rested too much weight against a particularly damaged area. She didn’t bother to crawl under the blankets; she grabbed the edge of one side and flipped it over her.

Idly, I noticed one of the servants coming into the room and replacing the nail that was missing from the sleeping form of Junketsu. How did they know that one of the nails had been removed?

Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to give him that blood. I wasn’t going to use it for much anyway with the plan… Maybe this is what I could do with the extra amount of blood.

Junketsu started twitching shortly after the servant had left. A few minutes later and he stopped. Upon closer inspection, his eyes were closed and he was in stasis. I know he would never go into stasis again willingly. That servant had done something to him.

Ugh, I hate that I’ve become even slightly dependent on someone else for affection. It’s not even affection. It’s plain and simply “being used” by Junketsu. And yet I don’t want to lose him as the only thing I can relate to.

.o

The battle with Ryuko went swiftly as usual. Satsuki ended up with a busted lip and various sizes of cuts on her arm from blocking Ryuko’s attacks. The blood loss was minimal, considering most of it was being diverted into me. Ryuko was suffering less damage now that Satsuki was distracted from dizziness, and I was happy that I was able to do something other than help our enemy.

I’ve seen Satsuki retreat enough times to know how much it hurts her pride. She hates having a weakness dangle over her without a way to correct it. She would clench her fist and grit her teeth whenever she stepped back from Ryuko. She’d snarl once no one was around, gripping her hands together, and remaining like that for an indefinite amount of time.

And then she’d detach. She’d let go of those feelings, breathing out coolly and relaxing her posture. It was how she dealt with her frustration. It was a quiet process that didn’t draw attention to her out of character display.

Satsuki laid herself down on her bed as she usually did after a strenuous fight. I was stripped, left to lie on the side of her bed this time instead of on the floor. I felt out of place being on her bed; her shifting form too close for comfort. It wasn’t the same as with Ryuko.

She moved under the covers, hair clinging to her back, covered in sweat from her battle. She never took a shower after a battle, unlike Ryuko, which surprised me at first. One would think someone of her stature would be more concerned about personal hygiene (those wounds could get infected if left untreated and brewing in filth and grime left over from a battle), but she definitely has her surprises.

When she stopped stirring, I went towards my one source of sanity.

I couldn’t stay away from Junketsu for long.

I shot blood back up at him, and the nail that had been replaced shot right back out, not secured tightly enough by the servant the night before. He calmed down much quicker this time, and that intense stare was back. It didn’t show even the slightest signs of confusion—why had I returned after what he did yesterday? He was probably wondering that, though I had no intention of answering it.

That arm stretched, beckoning me forward. It’s so _dangerous_ , but to lose control to someone I could trust—

I can’t resist.

The blood rushed through both of us this time. Junketsu moaned openly, not even hesitating with the blood transfer. Of course, no one but us could hear it. I couldn’t help but yelp at the intensity of it all, arching away from him yet pressing in further. He was cycling my blood through him and back into me, and it felt _good_.

I can hear him chuckling at the noises I was making. It wasn’t laughing; it was more like a huff that was off-putting and disturbing.

When he finished, I was left with roughly half of my reserves. He’d left an equal amount for both of us rather than taking as much as he could the last time. Interesting.

“Interesting. So it was you who keeps waking him up. I figured as much.”

I swerved around so quickly I almost suffered whiplash. The room was engulfed in light; Ragyo Kiryuin stood in the doorframe, leaning against it.

“Naughty Kamui. He was supposed to be asleep for quite longer.”

She stopped at the side of Satsuki’s bed to lightly stroke Satsuki’s head. It didn’t look right.

“Satsuki has been showing more signs of fatigue than usual. While I trust my daughter is getting proper rest and training, it’s no coincidence that she’s so worn out recently.”

I still didn’t move from where I was sitting, paralysed by her presence. I don’t like what she’s trying to get at here.

“It looks like someone’s been taking more than they need. What a greedy, naughty Kamui.”

She was approaching me and I felt inexplicably trapped under the throbbing form of Junketsu.

“And do you know what happens to little Kamuis who are bad?”

I don’t want to find out. Something shot toward me and pricked me in the centre of my body. It only took a few seconds for whatever the thing was laced with to take effect. I looked down. It was the same type of nail that they used to keep Junketsu on the wall and in stasis, and there were three of them inside me.

“Bad little Kamuis get punished.”

Three nails were much more effective at pushing the drug into my system faster. I was immediately shoved into stasis without a chance to protest.

.o

Ragyo wasn’t in my line of sight when I woke up.

A man had poured a vial of blood onto me, the same kind that had been used to wake me up when I was first brought in to the Kiryuins. I jerked, but was unable to move, restrained by two very tall men dressed in white coats.

I could hear Ragyo’s voice say “Commence!” from somewhere. I scanned the area for where she could be, but the walls surrounding us were a reflective black, extending all the way to the ceiling (which was a bit too low compared to the other rooms). Even if she were watching this, I wouldn’t be able to see her glow.

They folded out the ends of my sleeve lapels and attached them to metal prongs on the top of the plane, and the bottom of my skirt was clamped down by the lower prongs. It held fast, and with how tight it was I was unable to slip away from its grip.

One of the men disappeared from my view, and I heard a small beep. There was a humming that quickly became a loud buzzing all around me. I felt cool air blowing at my back. I was indifferent to it at first, but the force of it grew in intensity and suddenly it was too warm for comfort.

 

 

Ack! So hot!

The steam was blasting from beneath me and passing through my stretched threads. It was much hotter than anything I’d ever felt in my life. I writhed in my bindings, trying to move out of the path of the steam but unable to do so, stretched so tightly.

Don’t think about it, don’t think about the pain. Think about Ryuko. Ryuko would turn down the setting on the iron if it was too hot, and then she would soothe that pain by giving it a light massage. She would—

I can hear something shifting under me, metal sliding quietly aside, gears locking into place, even through the roar of the steam. My threads were beginning to loosen from the prolonged exposure to the heat, and I felt very…out of it, for lack of a better term. I didn’t feel solid; my threads have never opened this wide before. So much air is rushing through me…

Ryuko would tell me to sit on the ironing board. She would pat it and I would obey—

Something is touching my threads. It’s barely noticeable, but it’s brushing into the holes that the heat has opened. It’s all over my back at first and I can feel the touches becoming more pronounced as they moved. And now it’s sliding into my front section too. I can’t see what it is though and something is telling me that I shouldn’t be so calm about this.

Oh, no wait. I can see something protruding, but I can barely see it from this perspective. It’s shiny and tiny; it looks like it tapers to a point. There were thousands of these poking through the holes of my fabric. I’m not sure what they’re trying to accomplish here.

The steamer powered down, filling the air with dead silence once more. The stretcher I was on loosened up to the point where my fibers were no longer pulled taut. I immediately contracted them to a more comfortable state, but there was something preventing them from closing all the way.

I lurched. This feeling is so alien. Having something touch every single part of your body like _this_ … Any time I twitched I could feel the slide of metal against threads, and while it wasn’t unpleasant, it was definitely foreign.

They’d stuck pins inside of me while I’d been expanding.

Again, I’m not really sure what they’re trying to accomplish here. Big deal, they stuck pins inside of me. After a few minutes of rubbing against them, sure, they’ve become uncomfortable, but it’s not that bad.

The man turned to me with what looked like a knife in his hand. He lowered it to my threads, and roughly sawed back and forth. It aggravated my threads, pushing and bending to the metal but not even close to breaking.

“Hm, it’s still not weak enough for a regular blade.” I heard him say.

He took out a tiny pen from one of his coat’s pockets, fiddling with it for a bit before directing it at me. I watched as a small beam of light shot out from the end of the object, and contacted directly with my midsection.

And I screamed.

It hurts so much. Oh, oh, gah, it hurts. I can’t even move away now because the pins are keeping me gagged and bound. He’s cutting through me and  it hurts hurts

He stopped. I’m still burning and I can feel where he cut me and it’s still burning.

My threads weren’t as structurally sound when they weren’t in a cluster. Now that there are pins inside of the bindings, it’s weakening my ability to withstand certain stresses. A laser wouldn’t be able to cut my frame, naturally, but now that I don’t have a solid bond on my stitching, it’s letting the laser hurt me.

Oh. He’s not done.  He’s not done he’s going to cut me in half. Please don—ah! Don’t cut me in half. It hurts so much, so bad, I wish I could go into stasis but I can’t with this much stimul—

 

I’m in two pieces now. I can still feel where the laser cut through the weak bonds. The threads around that area have loosened so I’m not stretched as far, but the pins are still keeping me in place so he can do more harm.

I can feel him cutting through my right half again into segments, but my sensitivity seems to have dulled considerably.

My Banshi threads are exposed and out in the open, connecting my two halves. Banshis cannot be cut by lasers even if I was spread like this. They hung loosely, a lewd peak into my inner-oh, stop touching that. Erotic almost—

 He’s cutcutting right iiinto where my ri ight eye should be hhhhurts—stop! Too sensitive, too pain! Seeing white can’t see can’t see—

The pain is gone. It’s dulled down. I can feel it still there. He’s still cutting. I can’t feel it but I can barely see him. My vision is…I can’t focus. My body can’t even twitch anymore. I can feel the individual pieces. They hurt. It all hurts.

You’re talking to someone up above. It’s too bright to see—oh, it has to be Ragyo. You’re holding up that thing that dissected me. Stop touching me. I can see you showing her my cut up body.

 

Where are you taking me?

I heard the word “test two”, or maybe it was just “test”. Maybe I’m thinking up the rest of the words. It’s so hard to thithink when you bump into something and it ends up irritating all of my pieces. And it makes the pain worse.

I’m floating and now I’m on something really hot.

Why is it so hot in here?

It’s even hotter than the steam. The edges of my pieces are singing in agony.

I can be put back together.

No, I can’t.

I’m going to die.

I’ve never had a reason to be afraid of death. A kamui can’t die. I could stand intense heats and being cut into many pieces. There’s no way I could die short of a nuclear explosion.

I’m afraid of death now.

* * *

 

**Note:** Senketsu got set on fire here in case that didn’t come across well enough. Just enough to burn the edges of his pieces so that he couldn’t be put back together.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings:** Ragyo being Ragyo, NC-17
> 
> Good God guys, I’m sorry for not updating. With KILL la KILL art on tumblr and KlK collaborations with Japan and Hong Kong friends keeping me busy, I’ve had no time for writing.

Emergency stasis is different than regular stasis. I don’t know much about this state because I’ve never actually been in this state before, but there’s a noticeable difference from the norm. One, even if you have enough blood, you’ll still be forced into stasis. Two, it’s involuntary; I was not the one to initiate the transfer into stasis. Three, it doesn’t take blood to wake you back up.

I’m still in separated fragments, though they weren’t giving me any sensor input at all. There wasn’t any pain, it sort of felt like when one of my Banshis had been cut a second time, except I wasn’t panicking like before. I was still aware that my body was there—in a way, I could feel them there, yet I can’t feel anything. I’m floating. Something’s touching me on all sides, like some type of gelatinous liquid keeping me inside.

I could feel another presence, one that felt ethereal compared to anything I’d ever experienced before. Something was closing in around my body, and I felt tendrils brushing against my many pieces. I heard the balls of light around me harmonising with a melody not found in human kind. It somehow numbed the pain I was feeling on my botched edges.

There was a distinct voice from the chorus, gossamer strings amongst the chiffon airs. In a sense it was invasive. I was cautious about how I would approach this.

 _You have returned_.

…Who is this?

 

What are you doing?

_I am the Original Life Fiber._

As in?

_I am your mother._

My… mother?

 _I am repairing you_.

But that doesn’t make any sense. I was created by Dr. Matoi in his laboratory. I remember seeing it so clearly.

 

 

Mother?

_You must be so lonely. No memories to visit at night. You were created to destroy, and without that, what purpose do you serve?_

…I do not wish to destroy. Ryuuko has taught me that.

_I assume that she means a lot to you based on what memories you have stored._

_I’ll take that silence as a yes._

_You were not forged directly from me; you were not the product of pure origin. A scientist had extracted Life Fibers from me to create you. I felt your birth. It was corrupted by human DNA spliced into your lost Banshi thread. I have no  way to replace that human DNA with the Banshi I am granting you, but it will keep you stable. However, it is a pure Banshi thread; be sure not to taint it with impure blood._

What do you mean by ‘impure blood’?

_It will be explained in due time, my child._

_Alternatively, there is still a part of you that is straggling, not connected to you but very still much alive. I am not sure where that extra Life Fiber has gone._

What do you mean by that? Up until recently when I was hacked and burnt to pieces, I had all of my pieces to me. Otherwise Ryuuko wouldn’t have been able to transform.

 

 

_I’d like for you to return to me._

What…? I don’t understand what you mean.

 _Return to the original Life Fiber; become one with me again_.

And why would I do that?

 

I can feel you poking through my memories. Those are not for you to see.

_You hurt your human by trying to force yourself onto her._

I would never hurt her intentionally!

_Have you forgotten her tears already? I can see them._

I-I didn’t forget. I can see the memories. She tried—

_I hear you cry at night, your Life Fibers weeping for a connection, for complete synchronised harmony. Ryuuko has not yet given you that, I see._

You’re confusing me by changing the topic so often while we’re in the middle of discussing it. I’m not sure what you mean by that. We have been able to synchronise in battle without an issue.

 

I can feel you stroking me. Please stop that.

_You lack the bond that makes you and her whole. I do have a theory as how to fix that, though telling it to you directly would be inappropriate on my end._

How so? And please stop touching my scarf.

_My child, there is so much that you have yet to discover. The theory is relatively simple. I am sure that you will be able to discover it in all due time._

Stop touching it-hnn.

 _Shh, I am replacing your Banshi thread_.

I can feel it all over me, you touching me, and I don’t like it.

You’re inserting something into my broken threads and I can feel things running through them. What are you doing?

 _Hush, my child_.

But it feels weird and what are you doi—oh, ahhhh…

 

_It feels good, doesn’t it?_

It’s hurting where you’re touching the cuts, hnn.

_There’s more to it than pain, my child. Your mind hides nothing from me. I can tell you’re feeling pleasure from this despite the pain. Yes…_

Oh. Oh, oh, nonono, why are you doing this? It’s stinging but it feels good, but I don’t want it to feel good.

 

Whatwhat are you pulling out of me—

Stop please. Stop.

_I love the feel of your threads twisting against mine._

Ah, ahhh! Hnn!

_There there, my child. Don’t you feel better now?_

What did you do?

_You should no longer experience the itching. The Banshi thread that had previously replaced your lost one was improperly set and corroded in multiple areas. There was another that did not match the one you were originally graced with; someone had tampered with it. I have replaced that as well. No Kamui should be forced to endure that torture. I’m surprised you managed to go so long with it in your system._

 

I see. Thank you.

 

Mother, you have both healed me and tried to persuade me to break my bond with Ryuuko. I find it odd that you’d repair me if you thought I shouldn’t belong with Ryuuko.  Yet you also hinted that you would allow me to continue seeing her.

_You need to think of what’s best for Ryuuko. Even if that means removing her from the picture._

Do you believe it would be in my best interests to leave her?

 

 

I’m sorry, Mother. Your intentions are well justified. However, if I left Ryuuko, I don’t know what I would do with myself. She is a part of me—I can feel it. I can still feel her presence within me; it’s what keeps me going throughout all that I’ve endured so far. It sounds silly and childish. But it will keep me going.

_No, my child, it is not childish. It is simply how you feel, and those feelings are nothing to be ashamed of._

_Mm. Be warned that Ragyo Kiryuuin is planning something involving you._

Do you know what she has in store for me?

_That is something I cannot answer, for you need to discover the answer yourself. Focus on figuring out what her plan is, and be as cautious as you can, my child._

_You are fully repaired._

What are you doing? It feels like you’re pushing me away.

 _Goodbye, Senketsu_.

No, wait, I still have more questions!

 

 

I’m being compressed into a small ball, and I’m moving. She’s pushed me out of her form; the warmth disappearing in favour of a cool air. It was then that I was released from the forces crushing me, my arms extending and form unravelling into my natural shape.

I’m still suspended by Mother, her fibers still connecting to my back, but she’s lowering me down to the ground.

…and right into the hands of Ragyo.

I was not prepared for this.

I wasn’t able to struggle due to the fibers attached to me dampening any attempts to move. Ragyo’s glow seemed dimmer than normal, but that may have been because Mother’s own light outshined her own with its red brilliance.

“Kamui,” she addressed, arms outstretched and ready to take me in. It was distressing how easily Mother had given me up to the enemy. I thought that her original intentions were to help me against the Kiryuins, as she’d warned me about Ragyo planning something, but when she didn’t even give me a chance to escape…

No, those chances are slim enough as it is. It would be foolish to try to escape with Ragyo present, and even more so when I didn’t have accurate knowledge of the structure of this place in order to find a way out.

Oh no, I’m in her hands. They’re uncomfortably warm, and it doesn’t help that she’s touching any part of me that she can reach. She’s tracing along the stitching that Mother had just created, pressing and irritating them.

Mother retracted her fibers from my back with quiet snap, withdrawing back into her spherical frame. Leaving me alone with Ragyo.

“Kamui,” she repeated, and I opened my eye to stare at her. When had I closed it? She was picking at the threads surrounding my working eye. She wanted me to watch her.

 

We’re moving to the side, not away from Mother, but to the left, to sit in a funny-looking chair. It was too fancy to really be considered a chair, decked in some type of reflective material that mirrored the glow of Mother nicely, giving it a disturbing aura. Ragyo sat down on it, maneuvering my body so that I was trapped within a spindly web of her fingers.

“Do not attempt to go into stasis during this. It will only make for a long punishment.”

Don’t fight it, don’t fight it. I don’t want her to hurt me.

What is she doing? Something is sliding underneath my skirt, too thin to be one of her fingers, and—

No, no no no—

It connected to me and I jumped, pulling myself away from her grip, but never actually escaping. She was in my _mind_ like Mother was but it was a synchronisation without any blood. A red thread was connecting us, extending from somewhere on her body and attaching solidly to me. It throbbed as information transferred between us, information that would normally be used when transformed.

My body in this state wasn’t meant to handle this type of information. It was too strong and complex for me to understand without a current of blood to help keep me balanced and focused. I gaped, arching my back in a feeble attempt to get away from it, though I knew it wouldn’t do anything but provoke her.

Her claws were digging into my back, pulling me to her chest and rubbing her face into my skin. That feels disgusting. She sighed, leaning back into the throne and throwing a leg over an arm of the throne. The hand that wasn’t holding me trailed out of my view, not that I could see much anyway with how focused I was on ignoring her touches.

“Junketsu was never this compliant. Always such a hassle to control when being reborn.”

I wasn’t sure what she was talking about. I groaned when she brushed her nails against the lining of my mouth, more sensitive than normal. My body was automatically reacting to the stimulation, not me. I do not like this. I’m not pressing into her hands because I like it.

“So receptive to my touch…”

Her free arm jerked, and a second later I was experiencing a wave of pleasure I’d only felt with Ryuko while synchronised and her…performing on herself. She was probing in areas that Ryuko had, and the sensations it brought was all too familiar.

Imagining that it was Ryuko instead of Ragyo made it easier to handle.

I’d feel everything that she did. Every thread in me would tighten in anticipation of what I knew was to come. Even her orgasm—my vision would go white and my threads would sing in absolute ecstasy—oh, stop touching that. The blood coursing through the both of us would stop flowing for less than a second, but it was all I needed to let go. Her pleasure would be mi—ahh, that feels good—mine; it would drown out—oh! Everything else—

Oh!

Don’t fight it, just ride it out. You’re with Ryuko, and she’s whispering how much she cares about you, how much she loves you. Not Ragyo violating you. Not Ragyo pressing her face into you like Ryuko does when she wants to hide her face in her moment of release, not Ragyo caressing the same spots that Ryuko did-ahn--

Hhh-Oh, oh, OH!

 

She’s done, she’s done. Ugh, the sound made when she pulls her fingers out of herself. Do not absorb what she is wiping on you.

She didn’t even wait to cool down like Ryuko did afterwards. She was moving, her grip loosening on me, but I was too tired to do anything. Sensory overload like this sapped so much energy out of me.

Something glinted in my vision, but I didn’t pay attention to it. I just wanted to leave here.

Blood wicked onto my skin, and I swallowed it without a second thought. Admittedly, I’d become used to it, to respond quickly to any blood that was given to me. A reaction subconsciously acquired after I started taking more blood than necessary from Satsuki.  

It tasted so exotic, so rich, like the blood that’d been used to wake me up from stasis here. It was only a drop, but it filled me with an intense need for more. It was never this strong, this potent, when I was fed it before. I gurgled, conflicted on how to respond to my most basic instinct.

“Don me, Kamui,” I heard her say. But I couldn’t move. I sat in her lap, frozen, strangled by the conflicting signals coming from both the thread still attached to me, and what my body was telling me to do. Ragyo’s grin faltered a hair, and I caught it. I quivered, afraid of her wrath.

She must have felt me quivering, because her grin returned even stronger than before. “Still resisting?”

Red strands shot out from multiple points of her body, containing the same red glow of a Life Fiber in each string. They gripped me tighter than she did, slamming me flush to her body. It was ripping me, stretching me, forcing me to conform to her shape. Forcing me to be worn by her. My entire being screamed to _do something_ , anything, to stop this. This is NOT right. Ryuko’s blood is the only blood I would willingly consume. This is not right.

The blood poured freely into my systems, and I could feel the transformation beginning. Clamping down without warning, snapping to her frame, squeezing her skin. The euphoria I got from synchronisation wasn’t lost, but it felt sullied when I was doing it with this corrupt woman.

It was complete, but something felt off. I was still being overwhelmed by information that would normally be sorted out by the synchronisation. Now, there was no controlled flow. Something was shifting inside of my body.

Something is changing. I’m feeling something being added to me—it’s foreign, akin to when Ryuko defeated a foe and their Goku uniform’s Life Fiber was added to my own. It happened for several minutes, but it felt like mere seconds because of how much was being forced into my body.

I heard Ragyo twitching uncomfortably under my tightening—which was not my fault, by the way. It was involuntary. I could feel my skin separating and reconstructing in a way I’ve never experienced. My vision was skewed from this process, so I was unable to tell what was going on, but things were definitely flying around us and out of my field of view. I could tell that I was gaining much more mass. I can feel that. Life Fibers are extending out from Ragyo’s body.

And then Ragyo was released. She pulled away, grunting, but otherwise unfazed by what just occurred. I could see again, but it was disorienting. I was able to move way too much for how limited my body was supposed to be.

“Oh? What’s this?”

I heard her laugh. It wasn’t the huffing that I normally heard. If there’s one thing I knew about Ragyo, it was that she does _not_ laugh.

I lifted a head that I’d never had before.

And I looked at her, horrified.

“Her Kamui has a human form.”

* * *

 

 **Note:** OKAY About Mother Life Fiber here. I imagine her as a rather odd figure with a mess of a brain. She is organised in her own way, but it would be confusing for anyone who was not originally birthed from her, as they wouldn’t have a hive mind connection to her, so to speak. The type of connection I’m talking about is described in my short fic “Birth of a Kamui”. The personality of Mother Fiber here was designed before that episode where we found out she was evil.

Next, Senketsu. The human form is not human-human. It’s monster!human, and you can find examples [on my tumblr here](http://the-chokey.tumblr.com/tagged/senketsu). Just gonna explain why it happened here, in case I don’t continue this: Senketsu synchronising with Ragyo while her Life Fibers are all over him allowed him to collect enough Human/Life Fiber hybrid DNA to become a  human himself. I had a better explanation before, but I didn’t write it down so I forgot it.

Finally, important thing: I am not sure where to lead the fanfiction from here. I had the whole plot written down up to this point, but I don’t have anything else for it. I’d have a lot of stuff for human!Senketsu, but as far as how plot goes, I have no idea.

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Rating:** R  
>  **Note:** A lot of people asked me to continue this.
> 
> I really don’t like the idea of a gijinka Senketsu with Ragyo still running around. I struggled a lot with trying to figure out how to progress this simply because I didn’t know what ragyo would do with a him; what use does she have with a gijinka Kamui that cant easily be willed to do what she wants?
> 
> Bishironen molded a great depiction of a gijinka Senketsu, one that I could never replicate. . . but greatly helped inspiration. It’s another reason why I was hesitant to continue writing this. I hope I was able to deviate well enough. . .

 

My mind was reeling with sensory overload. I could feel so much more over a wider area, how cold it actually was, and more than that, an ability to move of my own free will.

I was kneeling on the ground, Ragyo standing close by. I was in shock, my eye frozen at the blank floor in front of me. I could feel myself quivering as mass amounts of life fibers shifted constantly inside me, rearranging itself with every subtle movement I made.

Ragyo moved to touch my chin, but I shrunk back from her fingers, angling my face away from her subconsciously. It felt odd to be able to react so quickly, and more importantly, to be able to escape from her physical nature for the first time, however small of an accomplishment it was.

I heard her chuckle, her steps echoing it as she began to circle around me, gracing me with cursory contact. I could twitch when she touched me, but now it felt like it was actually accomplishing something—momentary relief from touching—instead of feeling completely useless.

The Original Life Fiber seemed to hum, her branches moving more than usual. I watched Mother as her limbs danced gently, led into motion by the revelation of my becoming this…humanoid. Ragyo canted her head at Mother in interest, a silent question as to why I had become this. So she thought that this was Mother’s doing, and not her own.

Maybe it is Mother’s doing. After all, the Banshi threads she used on me could have been created with the sole purpose of changing me into what I am now under certain circumstances.

I figured that ignoring the touches was the best course of action. Bipedal or not, Ragyo was still Ragyo, and only I had changed in this situation. I studied my own body with my eye as she did with her hands. I could feel them tracing the fibers that made up the strong muscular build of my back. I felt tense and nervous, unsure of how, or what to do now. Before, all I could do was sit there and attempt to ignore it. Now, I had the ability to make choices far beyond the dimensions I could before. With these new limbs, I most likely had a power unknown even to me. The power to turn the tables against Ragyo. I peered down at my claws slowly without tilting my head to tip off Ragyo to the plan hatching in my mind.

However, Ragyo was two steps ahead of me. Her foot slammed down onto one of my hands, pinning it to the floor. A hand extended and roughly clamped around my jaw, jerking my head upward to stare into her eyes. Almost instinctively one of my hands wrapped around her slender arm, squeezing tighter than I thought was possible. With such strength, I probably could have broken her arm if I tried. If she was in pain, however, she didn’t show it.

“You recovered a lot quicker than I thought; already thinking of trying to escape.” She displayed utmost domination over me, despite not knowing the danger that I could potentially bring. She was sure of herself that she could take me down if necessary.

Her grip on my face softened as her face became one of concentration. She tilted my head up gently, observing the details of my new face. “I wonder if Junketsu would be able to transform as you did…

“Can you speak, Kamui?” Her fingers slid against my lower lip, applying pressure as though asking for permission. I opened my mouth, about to speak, but stopped myself before I did. We sat in silence, me focusing on her hand.

Her eyes glinted dangerously. What she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her, and it’d give me something to feel good about—knowing something that she didn’t.

I loosened my hold on her arm, but allowed my claws to nick at her skin, drawing blood. It absorbed into my claws, surprisingly, before my arm dropped to the side. She didn’t fail to notice it, but didn’t mention it, only huffed and smirked.

At that moment something tickled against my head—it wasn’t physical in a sense, but it was as though there was a presence at the edge of my mind, asking for entry. My vision became unfocused as I concentrated on this niggling, feeling it take on a more audible form; it flooded my ears with white noise before a single piercing note took its place. And after that, it was silent, before…

‘ _I wonder where Senketsu is._ ’

I heard Ryuuko’s voice for the first time in what seemed like months.

I could feel loneliness, depression and anger filter through, ultimately affecting how I felt and making me frown in concentration. What was occurring right now…?

Satsuki had entered the room, but I couldn’t hear anything but the echo of Ryuuko’s voice in my head. Was it just my imagination? It all sounded so real but Ryuuko wasn’t here.

‘ _I can’t even remember what happened._ ’

There her voice was again. Maybe my thoughts were starting to manifest itself into her voice as a way of dealing with my isolation from her. Maybe I was just imagining things.

‘ _I’m not imagining things._ ’

This voice could try to rationalise as much as it wanted to. It stopped sounding as much as Ryuuko now as general unidentifiable voices that chanted over and over, ‘ _Where is Senketsu? I need to find him_.’ It was overwhelming and I couldn’t focus on them and Ragyo pulling at my arm to stand.

I had to push away the voices for now as I was led off into the tall corridors.

.o

I wasn’t exactly sure what caused Ragyo’s demeanor to change toward me. My suspicions had me thinking that because she thinks that the Original Life Fiber did this to me, that I am something to be held in respect of now? I’m pulling at thin threads, though, as I’ve got little to actually go by. It was subtle, but it didn’t go unnoticed.

I was no longer allowed to sleep with Satsuki and Junketsu. My room was now one with the Original Life Fiber. Ragyo believed that the Original Life Fiber would have the means to stop me should I try to escape. She knew nothing of Mother’s attempts to warn me about her.

Mother herself was great company during this time. She had made a bundle out of her threads and would extend that branch down for me to lie down on. After that, I’d find myself resting very close to the base of her giant form, warmed by her radiance. It was the most peaceful I’d ever feel.

I discussed with her the voice, but if she knew anything about what this phenomenon was, she didn’t let on. Instead, she encouraged me to seek out the answers myself, reinforcing the will to be an independent piece of clothing once more.

The voice continued to say, among other things, ‘ _Where is Senketsu?_ ’ and ‘ _I miss Senketsu_ ’. Over and over, it repeated that. Along the way, I felt a series of emotions that were highly unbefitting of the situation that I’d be in at that particular moment. Such as being prodded with needles to test my newfound durability, I’d feel extremely warm and peaceful, and when alone, angry. Maybe that wasn’t particularly unjustified, but when the feelings would spawn from absolutely no provocation, it had me curious.

One night, I decided to humour myself and reach out to the voice.

I lay back in the bed created for me, nestled into the fibers that made up my bed and allowed them to encompass my body like a blanket. They pulled me up towards Mother, who was aware of what was going through my head at the time I decided to reach out to the voice.

The voice was muttering to itself, almost paranoid in the way that it repeated ‘ _Where is Senketsu? Need to find him._ ’ Tentatively, I drew my thoughts together and reached out towards the voice and said, ‘I am here.’

The voices stopped after I spoke, a few long minutes passing before they erupted again, more sorrowfully, ‘ _I miss him, where is he?_ _Where is Senketsu?_ ’

I tried again, stronger this time. ‘I am here.’

They quietened down to a whisper, one that sounded broken and on the verge of collapse. ‘ _Senketsu?_ ’

‘Yes.’

It was silent.

‘… _Senketsu_.’ The acknowledgement that this was real. The voice no longer sounded anonymous. It was clear as day that this voice was of Ryuuko’s. My chest swelled with emotions stronger than I alone could feel, causing me to hum with unrestrained happiness. The fibers surrounding me seemed to undulate in kind, reacting to my own actions.

‘Ryuuko.’

‘ _So…I wasn’t going crazy. But it still doesn’t explain anything. Where are you? Are you okay?_ ’

‘I am fine. However, I’m not exactly sure of my location. I believe it is the Kiryuin Manor; I don’t know where that is located, though.’ I could feel the loathing seep in at the mention of the Kiryuins.

‘ _Satsuki, that bitch. I knew she had something to do with it, but am I honestly expected to believe anything that comes out of Mikisugi’s mouth when he keeps ranting about ‘Nudist Beach’ all the time?_ ’

I froze. It wasn’t necessarily Satsuki’s fault that I ended up here. ‘It wasn’t Satsuki’s intentions to take me from you. Harime Nui was the one who took me from Mikisugi while he was sleeping, and Ragyo is the one I assume to have ordered it.’

She scoffed, ‘ _Then how do you explain me seeing you being worn by her weeks ago?_ ’ I felt a bit of jealousy and anger seep through.

‘She was ordered to do it by Ragyo.’

‘ _Tch, she could have easily just said no if she didn’t want to_.’

‘Not exactly…’

‘ _Anyway, how did you get inside of my head? Why now that you can talk to me, and not before?_ ’

‘I am not sure of everything myself. I suspect it has something to do with the change that I just went through, but it could have been a multitude of other things that Mother did to me—‘

‘ _Changes? What changes? And_ Mother?! _You were made by my father! You don’t really have a mother._ ’

I explained what had occurred in the past week and a half, and was met with even more confusion. But somehow, we managed to work through the details and we finally came to an understanding.

We spent every night after that talking. I had no real need to sleep when there was a guarantee that I’d get enough blood to last me through an entire 24 hour period. Ryuuko, on the other hand, would struggle to stay up late at night, but for the time we spent together—and apart—it was worth the trouble. She would attempt to talk to me during the day, too, but it was rather taxing to focus on both holding a conversation with Ryuuko and on the task laid at my hand at the same time.

The current task today being cut open to see what lay inside me.

The testing never stopped since my change. Ryuuko had complained about feeling sharp pains that occurred uncoincidentally during these tests, and so I did my best to restrict how much I actually transmitted to her. She still mentions it once or twice, when the pain is unbearable, but it’s tolerable right now.

Ragyo found out that I’d been producing life fiber all on my own when I kept vomiting up fibers three days in a row. She kept feeding me more and more blood, and I kept getting bigger despite what should have happened when I purged those fibers from my system—a reduction in size and muscles. It became clear that this wasn’t normal.

So I’d find myself strapped to a metal surface every day for about an hour as they probed different areas each day. They never managed to get to my core, the one that was slowly but surely _producing_ life fibers of its own. At the end of each day, I could feel the source of my life fibers moving around in my body, as though it were trying to hide its tracks from the scientists, to keep it from being discovered.

It’s slightly disturbing to know that even though I am of life fibers, there are life fibers inside me that have sentience separate from my own.

At the end of each session, I was sewn back together. By the hands of Nui.

Of course, Nui was the only one truly capable of giving me a complete repair to a gash this big, aside from Mother. She had to go through layer upon layer of life fiber inside me, patching up the threads the scientists had ripped apart in their effort to get as far into me as possible.

Every time she’d hum a different song, one that always had a note that seemed off from the otherwise cheerful tune. Her cold touch would purposefully poke at areas untouched by the scientists, teasing the fibers inside me into knots that ached for hours on end. She would giggle and say “Adorable!” whenever she saw my face contort from discomfort or pain.

The rest of the day was spent with Mother. I wasn’t allowed to roam without either Ragyo, Nui, or Satsuki accompanying me—they were the only people that could physically stop me if I decided to try to run. And most of the time, all three were not present at the manor.

Mother would show me the outside world from places where she’d been before; she’d show me the history of the world as she helped humans to evolve, and the development of human society. It was a great way to pass time… and I could talk all day to Ryuuko about it as well.

Ryuuko didn’t want to talk today. Her actions spoke for her.

‘Ryuuko, what are you doing?’

‘ _Ah, so you can feel it?_ ’

‘Oh!’

I could feel her probing her sensitive lips, an area not existent on my body yet felt all too real. I quivered, hands unable to do much but grip onto the warm fibers surrounding me. They reacted in kind to the ministrations I felt, vibrating under my hands.

Her touches traveled up my body, cupping breasts that I didn’t have and teasing the tender nubs there. I gasped, arching my back into invisible hands. It felt odd to push into the thin air, expecting to feel something but feeling nothing.

‘ _I wonder what you’d look like underneath me. So much more for me to touch…_ ’

I shuddered, allowing my body to rock to these phantom sensations, the desire to reciprocate these touches intensifying, but without Ryuuko there, I couldn’t return them. I knew nothing about the sensitivity of my own body, and how to pleasure it, but Mother had been paying attention to my interaction with Ryuuko, and decided to give me some power to do so.

Her fibers slid through my own tightly woven ones, seeking to connect with the Banshi threads inside me. They did, and I could feel her stroking them with a tender grace.

I choked, unprepared for the absolute euphoria to explode within me. Neither did Ryuuko. I heard her let out a wail, her fingers squeezing her skin more tightly. ‘ _Oh my god, Senketsu!_ ’

She was grabbing at her thighs, uneven able to do much more than grab at her groin and clench her hand between her legs, because the pleasure was rendering her unable to move. Steam poured from my mouth to relieve me of some of the heat developing inside me, accompanied by my own laboured moaning.

The waves of pleasure were looping back through the link. I received back some of the pleasure that she had felt moments ago, and it hit me each time Mother stroked another Banshi thread.  It was going way too quickly for me to comprehend, Ryuuko’s moans a crescendo that never ceased in my mind until finally, I felt her reach her limit. And milliseconds later, it hit me too.

I joined Ryuuko in her cry of release, fibers inside of me curling with ecstasy. My claws dug into Mother’s fibers, holding on as my body jerked upwards, shaking uncontrollably as I felt Ryuuko’s orgasm. Another burst of steam erupted from my mouth, only serving to warm Mother’s fibers even more.

Her orgasm was beginning to subside, and I could feel my senses coming back to me. I was able to let go of Mother’s fibers finally, and I sunk tiredly back into her threads, content.

‘ _W-what the hell did you do? That was incredible._ ’

‘Ah… uh, Mother helped me with that.’

I didn’t expect her to laugh, especially not as hard as she did.

‘ _That’s adorable, Senketsu_.’

.o

I felt particularly moody today, and it wasn’t helped by the fact that I was feeling something akin to what Ryuuko described as cramps. It was established that we could feel what we did to the other person, and we were able to control a portion of what went through this strange mental link, but it was apparent that Ryuuko wasn’t able to control _all_ things that went on in her body.

A dull but persistent pain thudded in my abdomen. Moaning and rolling around may have helped a little, but ultimately it would be Ryuuko’s job to be able to stop the pain.

‘Ryuuko,’ I groaned into the link, rubbing my own abdomen with the hopes that her feeling it would soothe her cramps.

‘ _Sorry, Senketsu. It’s that time of the month but I can’t really block out the pain as much as I’d like to... It’s not physical.’_

‘I understand.’

But the cramps had me especially distracted in today’s dissection. My life fibers weren’t as concentrated on keeping out of the scientists’ reach as they were bending away from that invisible pain. Even being cut open wasn’t enough to distract from it.

Satsuki was present this time, observing off to the side. I had to wonder why she was here, when all of the other times, she was absent.

They were probing around as usual, stroking fibers that they shouldn’t be and rearranging sections of others to search deeper. It was at that moment that Ryuuko’s cramps increased sharply, causing the normally docile fibers inside me to jump and lash out. Without a strong barrier to control them (the incision basically destroyed that barrier), they became unruly.

Threads snagged onto multiple scientists, around their limbs, their heads, their necks. I wasn’t very aware of what was happening, I couldn’t focus because of how much pain I was in. I could hear them crying out, screaming, but I was unable to will the fibers to stop.

There was a flash of a black object, and I could feel fibers dying within me. Someone had severed some of my fibers. My body lurched forward, unable to go very far because of the metal binding my torso to the table.

Something was stuck into my shoulder. I was getting drowsy, and semi-stasis was immediately upon me, stasis following soon after. I could hear Ryuuko begin to panic, but her words weren’t…I couldn’t understand her words. And then they were gone as I drifted into silence.

.o

I was in a dark room. I couldn’t see much, even with my enhanced vision. There was no light here aside from the subtle glow of some life fibers.

I groaned, shifting to scratch at the recently stitched up wound on across my abdomen, but found myself unable to do so.

I looked more closely at the life fibers, and the light that they cast revealed that I was bound to a wall… There were too many fibers in one cluster for me to break free from them without some sort of assistance.

I hung here in silence, loneliness. I could feel Ryuuko reaching out to me through this bond. I could tell she was worried, but she was trying to hide it by stroking her arms to simultaneously stroke mine… to calm me down. I appreciated it. I couldn’t talk to her though; I was still under the effects of the drug they injected into me—stil in semi-stasis.

It felt about an hour before I could fully come to my senses, and it was around that time that I saw a rectangular sliver of light develop in front of me. It turned out to be a door opening, though the light cast from it barely helped to illuminate the room.

…Satsuki?

I could see a silhouette from across the room, one I easily recognised as Satsuki’s. She moved to close the door behind her, wasting no time to move in front of me.

“Senketsu.” Her voice was hushed, secretive. I had the feeling that she wasn’t supposed to be in here. “I know we have our differences, and we fight for completely different causes.”

She trailed off, looking to the side in thought. “You do not belong here.”

That much was obvious. I belonged with Ryuuko, whom I haven’t seen in what seemed like weeks.

Through the darkness I could see something shift towards me, and a second later she was touching the fibers that bound me to this wall. I wanted to flinch away from her touch, but I willed myself not to. She did not see me in the same light as Ragyo—I had nothing to fear from Satsuki. They moved gently from the red fibers onto my dark skin, carefully, over the scars that had been there since before I’d turned humanoid. Her actions felt uncharacteristic for her nature, but not unsettling. My threads leaned into her touch, more than content with her gentle touches compared to the abuse that they suffered recently. I sighed, relaxing into my restraints and closing my eye in a show of placidity.

Her hand swept over my broad shoulders, tracing the markings there and then traveling down the long expanse of my right arm. She rubbed the area surrounding the fibers there, tugging at them. At first I didn’t realise what had happened, but after a minute, my hand was free and by my side. My eye snapped open and I jerked my head towards her questioningly.

“As I said, you do not belong here.” She was holding what looked like a black shiv, which was used to cut the fibers. It couldn’t have been made from any ordinary metal, but I wasn’t too focused on that. My other hand was freed soon after, and after careful work, the bonds on my neck were gone as well.

“Are you able to transform into your original form?”

I wasn’t sure of that myself. I hadn’t actually tried to, but even if I could, I had no idea as to how I would be able to. “I don’t know.” 

She froze for a second before continuing to saw off the threads holding my waist together. I decided that it was time for me to do the rest and gently nudged her away. She nodded and watched me tear into the Banshi threads covering my thighs and feet, falling to the ground and losing their red glow as they were severed by my claws.

“Perhaps we can try one more time to synchronise. . . You should still be able to do that, even in that form. It’s what you were designed to do.”  

I made a grunt of acknowledgement, stepping forward and my hand reaching out towards hers. My claw tips tickled down her arm until they reached her wrist. It was best to go with an area Satsuki was familiar with me drawing blood from. I dipped forward, bring her skin to my lips. I could feel her tense under my touch as my teeth brushed against that fragile skin, before they sunk into her flesh. Surprisingly, it didn’t take much pressure to break her skin.

The blood rushing through me was hot with the knowledge of a synchronisation. I could hear her murmur the words to initiate the transformation. My body was beginning to pull on itself, the life fibers within me bending outwards and loosening to extend over Satsuki’s frame. It felt as natural as when I transformed before, the only difference was it taking a few seconds longer than normal as my body deconstructed itself.

I sat on her body, though unsure of what her plans were with me in this state. Satsuki decided to humour me with the answer.

“I’m taking you home.”

 


End file.
